First Love and True Love
by EsmeAmelia
Summary: COMPLETE. For NaNoWriMo, I'm doing a set of thirty writing prompts with SW fanfic, but I'm doing each prompt twice - once for Han and Qi'ra and once for Han and Leia.
1. Holding Hands: Qi'ra

AN: Everyone knows I don't own Star Wars. For NaNoWriMo, I'm doing Star Wars fanfiction for a series of thirty writing prompts that I found on DeviantArt, but I'm doing each prompt twice - once for Han and Qi'ra and once for Han and Leia. I think this will be fun.

Chapter 1: Han and Qi'ira – Holding Hands

"Are they gone yet?"

Han risked a peek through the cracks in the crate he and Qi'ra were hiding in. He couldn't see anything, but he could hear the Corellian hounds barking somewhere in the distance.

"Can't tell," he whispered, "but I don't think we should push our luck." With the word "luck" he instinctively squeezed the dice in his pocket, letting their familiar clink-clink ease the tension of the moment.

Then suddenly, Qi'ra's hand was on his, her calloused fingers digging into his skin.

"Han?" she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think our lives will always be like this?"

"You mean hidin' in crates only to get home and have Proxima swipe the stuff you swiped first?"

Qi'ra snickered through her nose. "You seriously call Proxima's lair 'home'?"

"Well, what else _can_ we call it? It sucks, but it's the closest thing we've got to a home, ain't it?"

Qi'ra sighed, making Han wish he could see her face in the darkness – she was probably shaking her head with that oh-you're-such-a-moof-milker grin. "I haven't had an _actual_ home for years."

"Me neither, but _you're_ at Proxima's lair, so that's gotta count a _little_ bit towards it bein' a home."

He heard Qi'ra's head bang slightly against the side of the crate – now she was _definitely_ shaking her head with that oh-you're-such-a-moof-milker-but-I-love-you grin. How Han wished he could see it, but he could at least squeeze her hand in his.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if the two of us could just fly off together?" she whispered, seemingly to herself. "Like, if this crate was a starship and we could just take off?"

"Yeah . . ." Han murmured, still squeezing her hand. "We could take off right now and leave Proxima behind forever. He reached up with his free hand and brushed the top of the crate. "Pick any star and I'll take you there."

Qi'ra risked a tiny giggle. "All right, how about Naboo? It's supposed to be beautiful – full of trees and flowers and waterfalls . . ."

"Trees," Han repeated. "You know, I've never actually seen a real tree in person."

"Me neither," said Qi'ra, gently stroking his thumb, "but they're supposed to be beautiful and relaxing. Normal people who can actually afford food have picnics under them and birds live in them . . ."

"Well, whenever we take off from here we'll go somewhere that has trees." Han started tracing circles on the top of the crate. "Someday places like Naboo are gonna be _that_ close and we can have our own picnic under the trees."

"You make it sound so romantic."

"Yeah." Han grinned at her even though she wouldn't be able to see it. "Romantic." With that, he brought Q'ira's hand up to his lips and kissed it, tasting her sweat. "So, it's a date for Naboo, then?"

"Yeah, it's a date."

They lay together in the crate for an indefinite amount of time after that, their hands still clasped together. Han closed his eyes, imagining that they were lying under a tree on Naboo instead of a cramped crate. Instead of the stench of garbage and who knew what else, he imagined the smell of flowers – at least he _thought_ he remembered what flowers smelled like. He vaguely remembered his father coming home from work at the starship factory and bringing home flowers for his mother – one time, perhaps the one and only time he could _afford_ flowers. Come to think of it, maybe he stole them or bribed someone for them, but still, he remembered the bright colors and sweet scent – at least he thought he did.

No matter, one day he and Q'ira would see and smell flowers again and they'd learn what trees were like in real life. Maybe they'd even learn to climb trees like people did on other planets and they'd be able to gaze up at the sky through the leaves. Naboo's sky would be big and bright, not foggy and murky like Corellia's.

Maybe they'd even _live_ on Naboo one day. Yes, a house by the lake where they could see the sun every day.

It would be perfect . . .

"Han? Han, wake up!"

Han hesitantly pried his eyes open, his mind feeling hazy as if he'd drunk too much, feeling like he'd been pried out of the fantasy he'd just been enjoying and slammed back into the reality where they were hiding in a crate. "Mmm, Qi'ra?"

"You fell asleep," Qi'ra said, a slight giggle in her voice and once again Han imagined the grin that must be on her beautiful face.

"I did?" Han felt his cheeks warming slightly. "Well, are the bozos gone?"

"I think," said Qi'ra. "Come on, let's go home – or at least what passes for home until we get to Naboo."

"Kay." Han kissed her hand one more time before they pried their way out of the crate.


	2. Holding Hands: Leia

Han and Leia – Holding Hands

"May I have this dance, mi'lady?" Han gave his wife an exaggerated bow as he offered his hand to his wife.

Leia snickered as she took his hand. "Why of course, my sweet nerfherder."

He led her out into the center of the ballroom with strides as long as his uncomfortably tight dress pants would allow. Senate balls would be torture if it weren't for Leia's presence and the dancing. Well, and the food – the food was usually good, if they weren't trying to impress someone from a planet with a bizarre taste in food. He could still taste the giant bug steaks that Leia had dared him to eat at a particularly _memorable_ ball.

The husband and wife faced each other, clasping hands as the band started up a slow waltz. Something faster might have been more fun to dance to, but this pace let Han admire his wife. Tonight she was wearing a bright red gown with a matching band in her hair, both of which highlighted her skin and hair. Han especially appreciated the fact that the dress was low enough to let him appreciate her cleavage.

"Han," Leia suddenly said.

"What?"

"Are you _staring_ again?"

Han put on the most innocent face he could muster. " _Staring?_ Me? What makes you think I'd do that?"

"You say that like we _haven't_ been married for six years." She gave him a knowing grin as they swayed in tune to the music. "It's not very professional for a senator's husband to be staring at her breasts at a formal dance, you know that?"

"Hey, it means you've got breasts worth lookin' at." Han grinned back at her.

Leia only shook her head in response, though she was still grinning.

"Sides," Han continued, "you're the only one here who's actually _interesting."_

"Don't let the ambassadors hear you say that."

"Ambassadors? Is that what this party's about?"

"Don't tell me you forgot!"

"Hey, it's hard to keep track." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "There, am I allowed to do _that_ at a fancy-schmancy party?"

Leia nodded. "Han, believe it or not, you _can_ be a gentleman sometimes."

"Hey, don't go around tellin' people that – I gotta reputation to hold up."

They both snickered at that, hardly noticing that the music's pace was increasing. "Han," said Leia, shaking her head again, "what am I ever going to do with you?"

"Besides love me, cuddle me, and let me be a scoundrel?" Han kissed her forehead again. "So how do you think Ben's doin'?"

"Way to change the subject, but _hopefully_ he's in bed by now."

"Sure he is," said Han. "Chewie always makes sure he gets to bed on time." Han's grip on his wife's hand suddenly tightened as the image of their little boy danced in his mind. "I just hope he ain't havin' nightmares."

That last word silenced them both and suddenly Han felt guilty for being here. If Ben woke up from a nightmare, neither of his parents would be there to comfort him. Chewie might have been a responsible babysitter, but he wasn't Daddy.

"I shouldn't have come," he suddenly muttered.

"What?"

"I shouldn't have come," Han repeated. "I know you like me comin' to these parties, but Ben needs me when he gets his nightmares."

"Han . . ."

"You ain't there with him all the time like I am," Han blurted, hearing his son's little voice in his mind. "When you work late, I'm the one he runs to when he gets nightmares."

Neither parent noticed that they had stopped dancing in the middle of the ballroom floor, all the other couples whirling around them, some of the more important guests whispering about why did Senator Organa and her husband just stop dancing.

"We can go home," Leia said.

"What? No, this is an important event for . . . some ambassador or other, you shouldn't leave. What'll your senate pals think?"

"Is what they think more important than our son?" asked Leia, squeezing her husband's hand. "Come on, I'll say I'm not feeling well or something."

"That's a pretty flimsy excuse."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that – senators use that excuse all the time when they get bored."

Han couldn't help but laugh as Leia led him by the hand, weaving around the throngs of dancers. "Sorry, sorry," Leia was muttering, gripping her head with her free head. "I have a headache, sorry, I'll have to leave early, sorry."

When they were safely outside and in their speeder, Han took a long breath of night air as he drove them away. "I'm sorry, Leia."

"Sorry? For what?"

"For makin' us leave."

"Oh Han," Leia reached over and stroked his shoulder. "You didn't _make_ us leave – I _wanted_ us to be there for Ben."

"Yeah, I did too." Han sighed. "Still, it might've been nice to finish the dance."

"Well who says we can't? The living room's got enough space, doesn't it?"

Han felt himself starting to grin again. "Yeah, it does." He reached over and squeezed his wife's hand again as they headed towards home.


	3. Cuddling: Qi'ra

WARNING: This snippet takes place post-sex and there's mild nudity, but I don't think it's enough to warrant changing the story's rating.

Han and Qi'ra – Cuddling

"Lando's going to be angry at us."

"Well he should've thought of that before he gave me my own bunk to do what I wanted with it."

Qi'ra sighed as Han ran his fingers through her hair. She shouldn't have done this. She _shouldn't_ have, but Han had given her that smile that _still_ made her warm inside and one thing had led to another and here they were lying naked in Han's bunk – well, what was Han's bunk for the job. Had she just given him pity sex? There was a time when she had thought herself incapable of giving pity sex – but then again, there was a time when she would have thought herself incapable of a _lot_ of things.

Han was kissing her bare shoulder. "Think of it, Qi'ra, we're almost there."

Almost there. She had tried to ignore him when he talked about how after this job they would be free to go wherever they wanted together, but he kept pressing the matter. How could he have gone through fighting in the war and _still_ be so naïve?

Now Han was wrapping an arm around her. "You know, I bet I could beat that Lando in a _fair_ game."

"Why are you so convinced that he cheated?"

"Cause I _know_ he did. I can feel it in my gut."

"Well maybe your gut is wrong." His gut _was_ wrong – maybe not about Lando, but about _her._ How could she make him understand without completely breaking his heart?

"Don't think so," Han was saying. "After we do this job I'm gonna challenge him to a rematch and I'll win this ship for us."

 _Us._ "Han, you can win this ship for _you_ if you want, but it won't be for _us._ "

"C'mon, Qi'ra," Han said, snuggling up against her nude body with a deep sigh. "You and me and Chewie and Beckett can take on Dryden Voss and whoever else is out to get you.

"Han, you have no _idea_ what you're saying," said Qi'ra, wishing his kisses weren't giving her shivers, wishing his touch wasn't so warm and gentle, wishing she didn't _feel_ so much. If she had no feelings for him, this would be easy – she could just close the door between them without worrying about how he would take it.

Betrayal was practically a requirement for this life, something Han still didn't get. Even after his gang had lost two of its members, he still seemed to think of it like an exciting game that he could win and then everything would be fine. Naïve, naïve, naïve, the word seemed to fill her mind.

But did she really _want_ to wake him up to reality? Did she _want_ him to lose his innocence and start seeing only the worst in people?

Did she want to make him like _her?_

Han stretched his arms over his head, cracking his knuckles and letting Qi'ra see the little muscle bulges in his arms. "Well, how about we get a snack or somethin' before turnin' in?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Kay, then we can stay here."

Qi'ra felt her teeth starting to grind. "Han, listen . . ." Dammit, he was staring at her with those _eyes._ Those big hazel eyes that made her smile whenever she imagined them.

Han stroked her shoulder. "Qi'ra, when I was in the Imperial army, you know what kept me goin' through it all? You know what I imagined back in the trenches?"

"You and me flying through the stars together," Qi'ra answered knowingly.

"Yeah," said Han. "So don't give up now, not when we're so close to that dream."

Suddenly Qi'ra shot up to a sitting position, letting Han's arms slide off of her. "It's a _dream_ , Han, that's all. Dreams aren't real and you have to wake up from them." Before Han could touch her again, she leapt out of the bunk and pulled on one of Lando's robes. "I shouldn't have agreed to that, I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you, but . . ." Her voice trailed off once she saw Han blinking at her from the bed, his eyes pleading her to come back.

"Qi'ra," he whispered, "you're scared, I get it, but we can handle it together."

Yes, she _was_ scared. Scared of hurting him even if it was for his own good. In that moment she almost yearned for their shared childhood in Proxima's lair, when there was never much to eat and there was always danger of being beaten or worse, but at least they could completely rely on each other.

She gave a long sigh, turning away from his pleading gaze. "Han, one day you'll learn." With that, she grabbed her clothes and strode out of the cabin, leaving Han behind.


	4. Cuddling: Leia

Han and Leia – Cuddling

Han loved cold nights. Sure, he used to hate them, especially a certain cold night spent on Hoth, but now that he had a family, cold nights had become something different. Now they meant snuggling with Leia under the covers of their bed while watching the snow dance outside their window.

In fact, it was a wintery night such as this one that had added to their family just a month ago – at least that was what the doctor had said. If Han had done his math right, it was the night they were celebrating their anniversary on Naboo with the snow falling outside their hotel room.

Next to him, Leia let out a content sigh as she draped her arm over his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. "Han?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you nervous?"

"Bout what?"

Leia snickered as she stroked the collar of his pajama top. "You know exactly what." She took a deep breath. "I'm still having trouble _believing_ it." She ran her free hand over her still-flat abdomen. "There's _life_ growing in here."

"Yeah," said Han, rubbing his own hand over her stomach. "When do you think we'll start feelin' it?"

"Not for a few months, though . . ." She ran her finger over Han's hand. ". . . Luke said I _might_ start feeling it with the Force before that."

Han gulped at the mention of the Force. "The Force . . . do you think the kid will have it?"

He felt Leia's hand tremble slightly on top of his. "Probably. Maybe not, though." She sounded almost hopeful at the latter idea. "I mean, I don't know if a Force-sensitive parent _necessarily_ means a Force-sensitive child . . . I just know that Luke and I inherited . . ."

A chill ran through Han's body, making him want to wrap the covers tighter around the both of them. He wrapped his arm around his wife, running his hand up and down her back, absorbing the rough texture of her nightshirt. "If the kid _is_ Force-sensitive . . . what if it doesn't like me?" He hadn't _meant_ to ask that question, but it came out anyway, as if it had been lingering in his subconscious ever since he found out about her pregnancy.

"What?" Leia exclaimed. "Why wouldn't our child like you?"

Han gazed out at the snowflakes still falling outside the window, swirling around wherever the wind wanted to take them. "Cause, well, I ain't got the Force. If the kid has it, would we be able to understand each other?"

"You understand _me_ , don't you?"

"Yeah, but I don't always understand _Luke._ " He gave a long, troubled sigh as he pinched a bit of her nightshirt. "Our kid'll want a dad he or she can look up to. What if the kid doesn't understand what all goes on inside him or her with the Force and all and wants me to explain stuff that I don't understand myself?"

There was a slight shudder in Leia's breath. "Well, there's always _me._ " She said that last word with a touch of hesitation. "And Luke."

"Yeah, but kids wanna rely on _both_ their parents. If our kid sees that there's something I can't understand _ever,_ it could terrify the poor thing."

"The poor thing?" Leia repeated. "I'd say our kid has a great dad if you're already worried about its well-being when it can still fit in the palm of your hand."

"Leia, I'm bein' serious here."

"So am I."

Leia gently grasped her husband's hand and pressed it against her abdomen. "Han, Force-sensitive or not, our baby is so lucky to have you for its father."

"Even if I'm not . . .?"

"Well look at it this way. Our baby will grow up knowing that not everyone can do all the things it can do, but it will also learn that even if you can't use the Force, there are plenty of other things you _can_ do." She wove her fingers between his, letting him savor her touch. "For example, you two can fly the Falcon together and you can tell him or her all about your grand adventures as a smuggler and a Rebel."

"You mean like almost getting eaten by Ewoks?"

"Oh yes, _especially_ that." Leia laughed. "We don't want our child thinking that his or her father is just a big egomaniac, now do we? Telling about how you were almost eaten by Ewoks humbles your image."

Han laughed with her as he ran his hand over her stomach that was nurturing their baby. "Say, do you think it can hear me if I talk to it?"

"I don't think it has _ears_ yet, but I can't say for sure."

With that, Han eased himself to a sitting position, letting cold air into their blanket sanctuary, but he didn't care. He carefully leaned over until his head was hovering over Leia's stomach. "Hey kiddo," he said gently. "I'm your daddy. I ain't got the Force like you might have, so I might not be able to understand everything you can do, but I'm gonna try my damnedest to be a good daddy." He kissed her stomach. "I promise."


	5. Movie Watching: Qi'ra

Twelve-year-old Han couldn't believe he was doing this. He hadn't been to see a holofilm since, well, since his parents were still alive, and even then he had only been a few times, but now he and Qi'ra were crouching by the back door of a holofilm theater, waiting for a janitor or other worker to unlock it so they could slip inside.

"You know," Qi'ra said in a giggling whisper, "we could get in big trouble for this."

"Yeah," Han whispered back with a snicker, "but it'll be worth it."

They shared another giggle before Qi'ra suddenly perked up. "Shh, shh, I think I hear something!"

The two children squeezed themselves against the wall next to the door as if trying to make themselves invisible, holding their breaths as if about to dive underwater.

Then it happened. The door slid open and out came a janitor carrying a trash can. Before he could notice anything, the children slipped inside, giggling to themselves.

"Oh wow," Qi'ra said as soon as they were in the hall, surrounded by doors leading to their own worlds of entertainment. "We're here, we're _actually here!_ "

"Yeah," said Han, feeling his heart racing. "So, what do you wanna see?"

They looked around at the various titles. _This Way to Death, Imperial Protectors, The Droid Family, Planet of Song_ . . . Han was feeling dizzy. He brushed his shoes over the carpeted floor and inhaled the smells from the snack bar – _yes_ , it was just like he remembered from the old days with his parents.

"How about this one?" Qi'ra asked, pointing at one of the doors. "Looks like it'll be starting soon."

" _The Jedi Assassins?_ " asked Han. "Ain't that about how the Jedi tried to take over the galaxy a few years ago?"

"I think," said Qi'ra, "but so what? What'd the Jedi ever do for us?"

Han sure couldn't argue with that, but he still remembered his dad hoping the Republic would win the war and saying the Jedi would protect them. However, his dad was dead by the time the Jedi betrayed the Republic – at least that was what the Emperor said they did, not that Han trusted the Emperor any. The way Han saw it, neither the Emperor nor the Jedi ever gave a crap about people like him.

"Fine," said Han, "let's go see it. It probably won't be any good, but it'll be fun just to see a holofilm."

They slipped into the theater, which was still showing the sneak-peeks for future releases that they probably wouldn't get to see. Tiptoeing past the other patrons, they decided to settle themselves in the very back row, where they were less likely to get caught – maybe. Han's stomach jumped as they sat down – the theater still had that dusty smell from when he used to come here with his parents.

"Wow," Qi'ra was whispering. " _Wow._ I've never done this before."

"Really?" asked Han. "Never?"

"No," said Qi'ra. "This is going to be _amazing_ even if the holofilm itself sucks, even if Proxima beats us to a pulp and then makes us clean the latrines for a month for it."

Han was personally hoping that Proxima _wouldn't_ find out about this.

"You ever been to a holofilm theater?" Qi'ra asked.

"Yeah," said Han. "A few times with my parents, but we could never go often. Still, this place is just like I remember." He sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Wish we had snacks, though."

"Well if we do this again, we should swipe some snacks." She leaned forward. "I didn't know the holoscreen was so _big."_

"Shh," said Han. "You ain't gonna see the movie if we get caught."

With that, the theater went completely dark, which meant that the holofilm was about to start. Han and Qi'ra both held their breaths as the opening music started, surrounding the audience with a fanfare of drums and brass instruments. Han's heart was beating so fast that he wondered if it would stop from excitement.

Suddenly Qi'ra squeezed his hand, making him jump a bit. "What?" he asked, turning to face her and seeing that she was grinning at him.

"You're cute when you're surprised, you know that?" she whispered. "Anyway, I just want to say thanks. I'm already having a great time."

"Hey, we _both_ slipped in here."

"Yeah, but this was _your_ idea."

Han shrugged. "Well, I wanted us to have some fun together and I used to have fun here – well, when we could go." He inhaled the familiar-smelling air. "This place reminds me of my parents too."

Qi'ra squeezed his hand again. "One day we'll have enough money to go see holofilms whenever we want, just you wait."

"Yeah," said Han, though sometimes he doubted that their dream of flying away together would ever come true.

Qi'ra cocked her head a little. "Oh, and if we ever slip in here again, you can pick the holofilm next time."

"Kay," said Han, grinning back at his friend before they settled in to watch the film.


	6. Movie Watching: Leia

Movie Watching – Han and Leia

"Whew," Leia sighed as she flung herself down on the couch, her hair down and brushing itself over her robe. "After a long day at the senate, I'm ready for a nice, relaxing monster holofilm."

"Kay," said Han, turning on the holovid and mentally preparing himself for a monster film. Being newly-married meant new discoveries about each other, and one of those discoveries had been that Leia liked scary holofilms. In fact, she didn't just like them, but she found them _relaxing_ , something Han _really_ didn't understand.

Han let Leia rest her head on his shoulder as the holofilm started. This was one of Leia's favorites – a story about an insane Force user who used the dark side to control people to do his bidding in their sleep, which usually meant forcing them to commit murder.

"Leia?" Han asked.

"What?"

"Just why do you like these movies?"

Leia snickered. "Is the big tough smuggler _afraid_ of a harmless holofilm?"

"I didn't say that – I was just askin' you why you like them."

Leia nestled her head deeper against his shoulder. "Well, they're exciting, for one thing. It's nice to get a rush of adrenaline when you _aren't_ getting shot at for once." She sighed, taking a blanket from the couch's arm and spreading it over their laps. "Also, monsters are fascinating."

Han cocked his head at her. "They run around killin' people – what's so fascinating about that?"

"Well look." She gestured at the holovid, where the insane Force user was sitting in meditation and the sleeping lothcat next to him suddenly twitching in an unnatural manner. As the Force user concentrated harder, the lothcat's twitches became actual movement – then the animal actually stood up without even waking up. The Force user gave a maniacal grin as the lothcat took one step, then another, still fast asleep.

"Doesn't _that_ fascinate you?" Leia asked. "The idea that someone strong enough with the Force could control you in your sleep?"

Han gulped, averting his eyes from the screen. "Yeah." He took a deep breath through his teeth. "It kinda makes me afraid to sleep, to be honest. In fact, I probably ain't gonna get too much sleep tonight after watchin' this."

"That's the point," said Leia.

"What, so people watch this cause they wanna be sleep-deprived?"

Leia snickered. "The point is to force you to imagine yourself in the story's world. Here, not only is the Force experimenter a monster, but _anyone_ could be made into a monster. You could go to bed as a perfectly normal person and then wake up to find that you're a murderer."

"But you ain't actually a _murderer_ if a crazy guy is controlling you," Han argued. "I mean, these people don't even know what they're doin' while they're doin' it."

"True, but the person you killed is still dead," Leia argued back, "and if you fall asleep again, you could be used for another murder, and another, and another."

Han gulped again. "People can't _really_ do this with the Force, can they?"

"I don't think so," said Leia, "but isn't it fascinating to imagine? Horror films give people a chance to imagine themselves in terrifying situations without any actual danger."

Han shrugged. "I still don't really understand why you'd _want_ to imagine it, though."

Leia started rubbing his shoulder. "Don't worry baby, if you get scared, I'll protect you from the big bad holofilm," she said in a sing-songy voice.

Han rolled his eyes in a good-natured manner as they settled back to watch the film. Of course he wasn't actually _scared_ of horror films – he just didn't see the point of them, but if it made Leia happy to watch them, then he'd put up.

Nope, he wasn't scared.

Not at all.

So why did he jump in his seat when the Force user made his first human victim sleepwalk off to commit a murder?

"Han, are you okay?" Leia exclaimed.

"What? I'm fine, why'd you ask?"

Leia gave a knowing smile. "Oh I don't know, maybe because you're shaking?" She squeezed his hand, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. "It's all right, it's only a holofilm. No dark Force users are going to put you under their control and if you sleepwalk tonight it will only be your own self to blame."

"Ha, ha," said Han, "you know I _don't_ sleepwalk."

"Really?" Leia teased. "How do _you_ know that?"

That statement was enough to make them both laugh and take the edge off of the holofilm, which, Han had to admit, _was_ pretty interesting. Maybe he could develop a taste for horror films, after all.

Still, he would probably end up taking a few sedatives to help him sleep tonight.


	7. Date Night: Qi'ra

Han and Qi'ra – Date Night

Sometimes classes at the Imperial Academy were so damn _boring._ Like Han gave a shit about how this planet was loyal to the Empire and that planet needed more persuading. He wanted to _fly_ , dammit. What did any of this stuff have to do with flying?

He gazed down at his desk and his datapad where he was _supposed_ to be taking notes, but he hadn't actually written anything down. Why _would_ he write anything down? Once he graduated, the Imperials would just send him to whatever planet they wanted anyway, so why should they even both teaching him how loyal every planet was to the Empire? He wished he could go on the HoloNet, but he'd already learned the hard way that students' datapads were blocked from the HoloNet when they were in class.

He tapped his fingers on the desk while the teacher droned on and on and _on,_ telling himself that he'd be graduating soon, he hoped. Once he proved his worth in battle and made enough money, he'd buy his own ship and head back to Corellia to rescue Qi'ra. Then . . . well, then they'd be _free_.

They could even _date_ , actually go on proper dates like normal couples did.

She'd look so beautiful in a fancy dinner dress that hugged her body and showed off her curves. When he had money, he could buy her jewelry too. Maybe a necklace to go around her pretty neck. She'd probably like something shiny after so many years of living in the dark.

Before Han knew it, he was typing something into his datapad – but it wasn't class notes. Instead, it was a heading that read "QI'RA DATE PLANS."

A tiny smile crept across his face as he kept typing.

"1. Buy her present – maybe jewelry or maybe flowers or maybe both. Maybe something else too." He could already imagine her smile when she received whatever present he got for her.

"2. Take her to fancy restaurant somewhere." Fancy, but not so fancy that they'd have to eat with more than one fork or anything stupid like that. No, just fancy enough, like a place with live music and good food. They'd have a booth all to themselves, nice and intimate.

"3. At restaurant, treat her to all she can eat." That would include dessert, of course. Maybe he'd take her somewhere with an all-you-can-eat buffet. After all those years of being hungry, they'd both appreciate something like that.

"4. Take her to holofilm." Neither of them had been to a holofilm theater since they had snuck into one as kids and gotten in trouble for it – once with the theater people and once with Proxima.

"5. After holofilm, take her dancing." Probably at a nightclub or something – someplace exciting with flashing lights and loud music. A decent bar wouldn't hurt either.

"6. Finish the date part with a romantic walk in some park or on the beach or something." Probably a beach. Since they could go to whatever planet they wanted once Han had a ship, they could find someplace warm and sunny with romantic nights on a beach. Someplace where they could gaze at the stars or go for a midnight swim – or both.

"7. After date, invite her to cabin." That, of course, went without saying, though by then they would probably be living together on the ship. Living together. Just the thought made his heart thump. Yes, they would be free _together._

"SOLO!"

Han's head jolted up, seeing that the teacher was glaring at him with sharp, accusing eyes, his arms folded.

"Yes, sir?" Han responded, hoping his irritation wasn't showing in his voice.

"I was asking what the current status on Rodia is," said the teacher. "Surely you _were_ paying attention, right?"

"Rodia?" Han repeated. Rodia . . . Rodia . . . Rodia . . . where was that again? Was that one of the planets loyal to the Empire or one of the planets causing trouble?

"Yes," said the teacher. "Rodia. Since you were paying such good attention, why don't you tell the class how the people of Rodia are serving the Empire?

Han swallowed, feeling the teacher's intense stare on him. If he told the truth and said he didn't know or care anything about Rodia – wherever _that_ was – he'd probably get sent to the cadet disciplinary staff again, and he should at least _try_ to avoid that place for a while if he wanted to graduate.

But maybe he could fake it.

"Uh . . . they're traitors who refuse to show loyalty to the Empire and they need to be taken care of," said Han. When in doubt, say people were traitors – the Empire had a thing about traitors.

For once Han had luck on his side – the teacher actually nodded. "Correct. It's nice to see that you pay attention at least _once_ in a while, Solo."

Han mentally sighed at his stroke of good fortune.

Now back to planning that date with Qi'ra.


	8. Date Night: Leia

Date Night – Han and Leia

Leia and Han clinked their wine glasses together. "To us!" Han exclaimed, grinning at his fiancée.

He thought he saw Leia blush a little, but that might have been from the restaurant's soft lighting. "Yeah," she said. "To us." She glanced at the wall-sized fish tank next to their table as she took a sip. "I can't believe we'll be married in a week."

" _I_ can't believe that we've still got a whole week to wait," said Han, sipping his own wine and savoring its fruity taste.

"Just hang on, nerfherder, you'll survive," Leia laughed, tossing her braided hair back behind her shoulders that very nicely peeked out of her dark blue dress. "We've survived everything else – waiting another seven days for the wedding won't kill us."

"I dunno," said Han, slowly tracing his finger around the rim of his glass, "if there's one thing my life has taught me, it's that you can't always count on tomorrow."

Leia's smile suddenly faded. "Yes," she said, "I know that too."

Han immediately reached over and grasped his fiancee's beautifully calloused hand. "Leia, I'm sorry, did I bring up bad memories there?"

"No, no, you didn't," Leia said with a deep breath, wrapping her fingers around his. "It's just . . . well, my parents would have loved to come to our wedding." She gazed at a bright orange fish zipping past them in the tank. "That's a fish from Alderaan – a species that got preserved because some people exported them to decorate places like this one."

Han swallowed as he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it, inhaling her flowery perfume. "My parents would've loved to come to our wedding too." He grinned slightly, gently. "They'd be damn floored if they knew their son was marrying a princess."

"Prince Han," Leia said, grinning back at him, "I think that Queen Breha and Senator Bail Organa would have been quite pleased to learn that their daughter was marrying such a noble prince."

"Noble prince, eh?" said Han. "How do you think I'd look with a crown?"

"Like a scruffy nerfherder, of course."

They shared a laugh before Leia's face fell again. "It's just sad that our children won't have any grandparents."

"Well . . . I didn't have any grandparents growin' up either," said Han. "And well, if what Luke says about talkin' to ghosts is actually true, maybe their grandparents will be watching from beyond the grave or something."

"Maybe," said Leia, her voice suddenly low and gloomy and it suddenly occurred to Han that she wasn't talking about the Organas anymore. Their future children had _other_ grandparents – one of whom Leia knew only from dreams and stories, the other . . .

"Leia," Han said, his voice coming out in a near-whisper, "should we tell our kids about . . ."

"Let's _not_ talk about that tonight," said Leia.

"Well we should discuss it at _some_ point . . ."

"I know, but _not_ tonight." She looked at him with fire in her eyes. "We're having fun tonight, remember?"

"Okay, okay," said Han, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach. What _would_ they tell their kids about their grandfather?

"Anyway," Leia said quickly, "I'm sorry, I'm wrecking the evening with my talk about Alderaan."

"Leia, you could _never_ wreck the evening." Han reached over and grasped her hand again, running his finger over her engagement ring. "Alderaan is part of you and I'm marrying _all_ of you, not just the happy, sunny parts."

"Alderaan _was_ happy and sunny," Leia murmured.

"I know, and your parents did a damn good job raising you into the amazing woman that you are."

Leia just looked down at their hands resting on the pink linin tablecloth. "We've got our whole lives ahead of us, but I keep looking at the past." She looked back up at him. "During the war, I had to _pretend_ that I wasn't dwelling on Alderaan in order to be a strong leader, but . . ."

"You don't have to pretend with me," said Han, gazing into her beautiful brown eyes and hoping that his own eyes showed his sincerity. "I can't even _begin_ to imagine losin' your entire _planet_ , but I can still be a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on whenever you need one."

She smiled at him, her eyes glistening in the gentle light. "What did I ever do to deserve such a wonderful nerfherder for a husband?"

After leaning over and kissing her cheek, Han glanced at their reflections in the fish tank. A pair of orphans from completely different worlds who had each lost one family only to gain a new family in each other – it sounded like a cheesy romance holofilm when he worded it that way in his head, but it was still the truth.

Whatever difficulties they might have to face in their married life, they would face them together.


	9. Kissing: Qi'ra

Kissing – Han and Qi'ra

By now Han would have thought that he'd be used to being beaten, but no matter how many times it happened, it always _hurt._ He must have passed out at some point after the beating, since he didn't remember how he ended up on his cot with Qi'ra hovering over him. Well, at least Qi'ra's presence would help distract him from the pain in his head, and arms, and legs, and stomach, and, well, basically everything else.

"Han," she said in a scolding yet good-natured manner, "why do you keep irritating Proxima and her goons like this?"

Han managed to grin up at her despite his bleeding lip. "Hey, if I don't, who will?"

Qi'ra snickered as she produced a wet cloth and started wiping off Han's face, cooling off his sore skin and soothing the irritation. "Han, what am I going to do with you?"

"Kiss me," said Han, still grinning, though he felt his warm blood starting to dribble out of his lip.

"Han . . ."

"I'm serious. I remember how my mom used to kiss my sores when I was little and I always felt better after that."

"I'm not your mother," said Qi'ra. "And you're not five anymore."

"So? Since when does that mean you can't kiss me?" He puckered up his lips. "My lips _really_ hurt and a little kiss might help them feel better."

"Not until I get the blood off them."

Han chuckled. "Are you afraid that you won't like how my blood tastes?" With that, he stuck his tongue out and brushed it over his lips, tasting the saltiness of his own blood. "I don't think it tastes too bad."

Qi'ra shook her head and rolled her eyes as she gently undid the top of his shirt so she could wipe his chest. "You, sir, are too much to handle."

"I know," said Han. "And that's why you love me."

Qi'ra only giggled in response and there was silence after that, the only sound being her periodically dipping the rag in water and wringing it out. While Han flinched in pain when she had to touch his wounds, the water would sooth him afterwards.

"Why do I have to get beaten to a pulp in order for a pretty girl to take care of me?" he said after a while.

"Because you have a habit of getting beaten to a pulp," said Qi'ra. "Then I have to take care of you because no one else will."

"Oh?" said Han, grinning up at her again. "So you _wouldn't_ take care of me if someone else would do it?"

Though it was difficult to see her face in the dim light, Han could still see hints of his friend grinning back at him as she wiped his neck. "I didn't say _that_ , silly."

Han blinked up at her, his eyelids getting heavier with each blink. "But you still don't wanna kiss me?"

"I'll kiss you when I'm good and ready," said Qi'ra. "You don't want to get an infection while I'm kissing you, do you?"

Han started to laugh, but then it dissolved into a yawn. "No . . . but I might fall asleep before you're done."

"Then I'll kiss you goodnight when you're asleep," said Qi'ra, giving a sly grin as she ran the cloth up and down his right arm. How many spots _was_ he injured in anyway? He only vaguely remembered the beating, but it must have been pretty severe to wear him out like this.

He gave an exaggerated pout, though it irritated his sore lips. "Then I won't get to enjoy it." He yawned again. "Seriously, getting beatin' up takes it outta you – I think I'm gonna be out in a few minutes."

"All right, then go to sleep," said Qi'ra. "You know Proxima will want you up at regular time regardless of your injuries anyway."

Han did _not_ want to think about how he'd get dragged out of bed and have to go on a job no matter how sore his body was. "Fine," he said through yet another yawn, trying unsuccessfully to fight his closing eyes. He felt something being wrapped around him – probably Qi'ra tucking him into a blanket, and while it was thin and dirty and didn't provide much warmth (just like every other blanket around the hideout), he still sighed contently, feeling sleep engulfing him.

However, before he could completely fall asleep, he felt a familiar pair of lips kissing his forehead and a familiar accented voice whispering, "Good night, Han."

Han wasn't awake enough to open his eyes, but the tips of his mouth curled up into a slight smile before he sank down into sweet oblivion.


	10. Kissing: Leia

Kissing – Han and Leia

The spot where Han had kissed Leia's lips before he disappeared down into the carbon freezer still tingled, as if it were waiting for him to kiss her again. She concentrated on keeping her breath steady as the streaks of hyperspace rushed past the Falcon. No, she couldn't cry here. She had to at least keep her head until they reached the fleet.

She had to be strong for Luke.

Why did Luke keep muttering about Vader and why did he keep asking Ben why he didn't "tell him"? Tell him what? Leia reasoned that Luke must be delirious after having his hand cut off, but why was her stomach twisting every time he spoke to the dead man, as if his cries actually had some validity to them?

Luke was still in the seat behind her, his head lolling as if asleep. Leia realized that she should probably take him back to the bunk – it probably wouldn't help his healing process to sleep in the seat. Healing process – that wasn't exactly an accurate phrase, since his missing hand would _never_ heal.

"Luke?" she said gently, causing him to open his blackened, swollen eyes only slightly. "Come on, you should get back to bed."

He didn't answer as she bent over, gently slid his arm over her shoulder, and urged him to a standing position, but he didn't resist either. His mind seemed somewhere far away as she slowly led him out of the cockpit towards the medbay.

 _"_ _I know . . ."_

No, no, she shouldn't think about Han's last words right now. _Last words_ – no, she shouldn't think _those_ two words either. Han _wasn't_ lost forever . . . he _wasn't . . ._

 _"_ _I know . . ."_

And it was wrong to be angry at someone who had just suffered a horrible fate.

No, she wasn't angry – she couldn't be angry – but . . . why did he say _that_ right before his possible death or endless sleep? What was that nerfherder _thinking?_

She swallowed as they reached the medical bunk and she carefully laid Luke down.

 _"_ _I know . . ."_

Was it wrong of her to have wanted him to return the confession she'd given him? Come on, she shouldn't be dwelling on this when Luke had lost his hand and Han was frozen. It was stupid and shallow to be wondering about Han's words when so much else had happened. She should be ashamed of herself.

"Leia?" Luke suddenly gasped out, his eyes barely open.

"Yes?"

"Where's Han?"

Leia's throat was suddenly as dry as if she'd had no water for days. "Han?" she whispered, blinking to keep tears in.

Luke's eyes were closing. "Han . . . Vader got him . . . didn't he? . . ." His words faded away and sleep overtook him before Leia could answer. He looked like a helpless child whose entire world had collapsed under him. What _did_ happen during his confrontation with Vader?

The princess shuddered as she pulled the covers over Luke. How was she _ever_ going to tell him what happened to Han? She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling in her lap, her lips still feeling his last kiss.

 _"_ _I know . . ."_

Even if his words didn't return her confession, she'd still felt the fierce desperation in his kiss, seen how his lips remained pursed even as the stormtroopers dragged him away from her. And his eyes – his absolutely _heartbroken_ eyes as he sank down into the freezer, fixed on her as if he was trying to memorize her face. All of that had to mean something, right?

 _"_ _I know . . ."_

This was stupid – she should be focusing on rescuing him instead of those words.

How were they going to rescue him?

The Rebellion certainly wouldn't use precious troops to rescue one person. As a leader of the Alliance, Leia would be expected to accept Han as a casualty of war.

Which she couldn't do.

 _"_ _I know . . ."_

His last words – no, don't call them that! – pounded in her head as if he were crying for help from the depths of the carbonite and she was the only one who could reach him.

"Han," she found herself whispering out loud almost without her mind's permission, "hold on, I'm coming for you. I know you can't hear me, but I'm coming. Just don't give up."

What was happening to her? She certainly wasn't prone to talking to people who weren't there normally and if anyone had told her that she would _ever_ consider neglecting her duty for . . . for _Han Solo_ of all people, she would have taken them to be drunk. In fact, the person who would tell her that would probably _be_ Han Solo and he probably _would_ have been drunk.

Yet here she was, pledging to save him with or without the Rebellion's help. Something inside her had been fundamentally changed. Not since her planet's destruction had she _felt_ so much, but she didn't want to banish the pain.

She still felt his desperate kiss on her lips.

"I'm coming, Han," she repeated. "That kiss won't be our last."


	11. Swapping Clothes: Qi'ra

Swapping Clothes – Han and Qi'ra

"C'mon Qi'ra, just a little bit further, I think."

"You _think?"_

"Well you know, stuff looks different in the rain."

The two teenage thieves had been sloshing through the torrent of rain for what seemed like forever, but still the cold rain poured down on them without any signs of letting up. Han kept squinting as if that would help him see any better, but that only made the drops that had built up on his eyelashes drip into his eyes.

"AAAH!"

Suddenly Qi'ra's foot slid out from under her, pulling her body down into a heap.

"Qi'ra!" Han shouted, rushing to her side, suddenly not caring about the rain. "Qi'ra! Are you okay?"

Qi'ra flinched as she eased herself into a sitting position and gripped her right foot. "Ankle . . ." she whimpered, ". . . ankle . . . hurts . . ."

Han squinted at her foot, still unable to see too clearly in the rain, but it _looked_ like a swollen area was bulging out of her shoe. "We've gotta get somewhere dry," he said, swallowing as he looked at her pale, grimacing face. "Actually, we should get to a _hospital."_

Qi'ra was breathing unevenly through her mouth. "You say that like we could actually _afford_ a hospital."

"Well . . . maybe Proxima would pay for one of her thieves to get better so you could get back on your feet and steal for her again?"

Qi'ra snorted. "And maybe she'd let us go to school so we could actually make our ways in the galaxy while she's at it."

"All right, all right, so we can't afford a hospital, but let's at least get you somewhere to wait out the storm." He wrapped his arm around her back. "C'mon, let's stand up together."

The ground was wet and slippery, which made standing up a slow process, especially since Han had to support Qi'ra's weight, but after what must have been at least several minutes, they finally made it to a unified standing position.

"C'mon," said Han. "One step at a time."

It was slow-going through the rain. Several times Qi'ra almost slipped with her single good foot, but Han managed to keep his footing and hold her up as the rain kept pouring down on them, still reducing Han's vision to just a few feet in front of them. Sometimes people passed by and Han found himself hoping that someone would help them out, but no one did.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they reached a garage that appeared to be abandoned – at least no one was in it. By now Han's shoulder felt like it was about to fall off from supporting Qi'ra's weight, so he wasted no time in helping her in the garage.

"Well," Han said as he carefully laid Qi'ra down, "least it's dry . . . ish."

Qi'ra chuckled. "I feel like a princess in an old story being served by a brave knight."

"Brave knight, huh?" Han said with a grin as he eased himself to the floor by her side. "Just call me Sir Han."

Qi'ra laughed again before flinching in pain, which caused Han to turn his attention to her ankle. "This looks pretty bad. Wish I had something to wrap it in." He took off his vest and rolled it up into a makeshift pillow. "Here, rest your foot on this."

"Are you a medical droid now?" Qi'ra asked, grinning through her pain.

"No, but I'm all we've got right now." He gulped. "Hold still, this might hurt." He eased her shoe off, desperately hoping that he wasn't hurting her more, though she flinched again as he did so. "It really should be wrapped in something . . . wait, I know!" He ripped off a long strip of cloth from his shirt. "Here, this oughta do." He grinned at her as he wound the cloth around her ankle and rested it on his vest. "There, it's like you're wearin' my shirt now."

Qi'ra gave a soft, pained giggle. "If I'm wearing your shirt, shouldn't you wear something of mine too?"

"Well, I could put on your shoe, but I don't think it's big enough."

"Oh? How do you know unless you try?"

"Good point." Han yanked off his wet boot and stuck his toes into Qi'ra's shoe, but predictably his foot wouldn't fit any further. "Well, guess I was right."

Qi'ra giggled again through her pain.

"Glad I could make you laugh," said Han, gazing around the dark garage at the shadows that could conceal any number of enemies also taking refuge from the storm. "Wish I could do more for you."

Qi'ra reached up and squeezed his wet hand. "Han, you're doing fine."

"Don't say that. If your ankle gets infected, it'll be my fault."

"It _won't_ get infected. You're my brave knight, remember?"

A sudden burst of thunder made them both jump a little as the floor vibrated beneath them. "Some brave knight I am," said Han. "I can't even afford an actual doctor."

Qi'ra squeezed his hand tighter. "One day we will, Han. One day we will."


	12. Swapping Clothes: Leia

Swapping Clothes – Han and Leia

"Happy Anniversary, guys!" exclaimed Luke, handing identical-looking presents to Han and Leia. The gifts were both the same size and they were both wrapped in the same X-Wing paper.

"Thanks, kid," said Han, though he had to hold his package out of the way of baby Ben, who was sitting in his father's lap and looking rather curiously at the present.

"Well, come on!" Luke exclaimed, an expectant grin on his face. "Open them!"

Leia carefully unfolded the corners before opening the rest of the gift while Han simply ripped his open, but they each contained the same thing. Almost simultaneously, both husband and wife pulled identical light blue shirts out of the boxes.

"Matching his and hers t-shirts!" Luke exclaimed. "What do you think?"

Leia grinned. "I love it. Thanks, Luke."

"Yeah," said Han, sharing his wife's grin. "Thanks." His grin grew wider as Ben grabbed a handful of the paper with a happy coo. "Looks like Ben got a gift too."

After smiling down at his little nephew, Luke turned his expectant gaze back up at his sister and brother-in-law. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go put them on!"

Ben was giving cute little giggles as he played with the paper and Han honestly didn't want to disturb him, but he also didn't want to disappoint his brother in law. "Kay, kid. How about you play with your nephew while we go change?" He carefully handed the baby and the wrapping paper to Luke as he and Leia both rose from the couch.

"We'll be back in a minute," said Leia as she and her husband made their way to the bedroom.

Once they reached their bedroom, Han and Leia eagerly removed their shirts, each one taking a peek at how good the other looked shirtless before putting on their new presents.

However, there was a difficulty there.

Han tried to wiggle his arms into the sleeves – he _tried_ – but no matter how much he wiggled this way and that, the shirt kept its tight grip around his torso and arm – it felt like a vice clamping his arms to his torso. He tried to get his head through the collar, but every attempt to do so resulted in the collar clamping his head the same way the rest of the shirt clamped his torso.

"Uh, Han?"

Han turned around as best he could in the situation he was in and through the blue fabric he saw Leia in her own shirt, which draped almost down to her knees, while the neckline dangled over her breasts.

"Han?" she said in an awkward manner. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"If you're thinkin' that Luke must've given us the wrong shirts, then yes," Han grunted from inside the shirt.

They looked at each other through the shirt fabric for a few moments, then almost simultaneously they burst into giggles. "Well," Leia said through her laughter, "you sure do look cute in there."

"How do you know I look cute?" Han asked through his own laughter. "You can't even see me."

"Well first of all, you _always_ look cute, and secondly, just your scruffy hair peeking out of the shirt is cute."

"Kay, I'll buy that, but you might wanna help me out before I rip _your_ shirt."

Still laughing, Leia bit-by-bit peeled the shirt off of Han's body, letting him see the full view of her wearing the shirt meant for him. "Hey, not bad," he said. "You could wear that as a nightshirt."

"I don't think that's what Luke meant it for."

"Maybe not, but it gives me a nice view of your cleavage." He ducked out of the way of Leia's playful swat at him. "Anyway, here's _your_ shirt back, hope I didn't stretch it too much."

Leia took the shirt and dug her nose into it, giving a long, deep inhale. "Mmm, it smells like your cologne now. I think Luke did us a favor."

Han chuckled at the thought. "Kay, now can I have _my_ shirt back?"

"In a minute." Leia winked at him. "Just let me enjoy your smell for a little bit longer."

"Take as long as you want, sweetheart. Then I get to tell Luke about how much you enjoy my scent."

It took much longer than expected for the couple to emerge from the bedroom, but at long last they entered the living room to find Luke and Ben on the couch, Ben still enjoying the wrapping paper and Luke giggling at him, but one the Jedi saw his sister and brother-in-law, a big grin burst onto his face.

"Wow, you two look great!" he exclaimed.

"Yup," said Han. "Thanks kid, they fit perfectly."

Luke's grin grew wider. "I knew they would."


	13. Costumes: Qi'ra

AN: Sorry about the last chapter - somehow it got posted with code marks in the chapter. I don't know what happened, but it's fixed now. Also, sorry I've been a bit behind lately, but real life comes first. Thanks for reviewing!

Han and Qi'ra – Costumes

Disguises were nerve-wrecking, but sometimes they were necessary in Han and Qi'ra's "line of work." Tonight, for example, they were supposed to pose as servants for some rich guy's party in order to make off with his jewels. The male servants in this house wore simple brown suits, while the female servants wore black dresses with white aprons, so that was what Proxima had supplied – where she got them, Han didn't know, but he did know that the suit itched like crazy.

"Han," Qi'ra whispered, I don't think the servants are supposed to scratch like that."

"How the hell are they s'posed to _not_ scratch?" Han whispered back. "This thing's worse than a swarm of Corellian fleas."

"Han, we're supposed to be acting inconspicuous."

Han inhaled through his teeth, forcing himself to uncurl his fingers and press his hands against his pants, though the outfit was still irritating his skin. "Okay, I'm actin' inconspicuous," he whispered, still through his teeth. "Now where are those damn jewels?"

"Shh!" Qi'ra hissed. "Do you want to give us away?"

Just then, one of the guests handed his coat to Qi'ra without giving her so much as a glance, as if she didn't even exist. Qi'ra had no choice but to play her role as a servant and hang it up. Han figured he should follow her so they wouldn't be accidentally separated.

"Why does Proxima think _servants_ would have access to the jewels anyway?" Han muttered as soon as they got to the closet.

"Were you even _listening?_ "

Han gave her a sheepish grin. "Maybe."

Qi'ra rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but smile back at him. "You disable the alarm by hotwiring it, then I hotwire my way into the bedroom where the jewels are kept."

"Huh, you'd think the _real_ servants would've already tried to swipe the jewels if it's really that easy to get to 'em."

After Qi'ra snickered at him, they slipped out of the closet and started creeping up the stairs. "All right," said Qi'ra. "According to Proxima's info, the power box for the security system is _that_ way and the bedroom is _that_ way . . . Han, _stop scratching!"_

Han ground his teeth. "Soon as we get outta here I'm throwin' this outfit away. I don't care if Proxima beats the shit outta me for it – I ain't _ever_ wearin' it again."

"Fine," said Qi'ra, "just go disable the alarm so we _can_ get out of here."

"Kay," said Han, clenching his hands into fists in order to keep himself from scratching, though by now he felt like only one of those soothing itch creams could stop the itching – not that he could afford any of those creams, of course. At least he could look at this luxurious hallway with fluffy red carpet, chandelier lamps, and holos of whom Han guessed were important people on the walls.

The security system controls were more complicated than Han expected. He'd have to unplug _this_ wire from _that_ socket in order to disable the alarm . . . or was it _that_ wire and _this_ socket? He took a deep breath, trying not to let the itching of his damn suit distract him.

"Han," Qi'ra whispered from the bedroom door shortly down the hall, where she had opened the lock panel and was fiddling with the wires herself. "Hurry up!"

"Do you have the door unlocked?"

"Almost, just get that alarm disabled."

Han kept staring at the tangle of wires. Even in the speeders he'd hotwired, he'd never seen such a confused mess. Maybe it was made this complicated on purpose to discourage intruders.

Now he knew why the servants didn't try to steal the jewels themselves.

"All right, I've got the door!" Qi'ra whispered as the door slid open. "Do you have the alarm disabled?"

"I told ya, almost!"

"Han, come on, they're going to catch us soon if we don't hurry!"

Han couldn't argue with that. With controlled, determined movement, he pulled out the wires that he thought would disable the alarm. "All right, get going!"

Qi'ra took a moment to grin at her friend before disappearing into the bedroom. Han was beginning to wonder if they could slip some of the jewels for themselves. Sure, Proxima probably had an exact number counted out and was expecting that exact number, but what if there was an extra jewel she didn't know about . . .?

However, before he could continue the daydream, a loud alarm sounded, blasting into his ears and causing Qi'ra to dart out of the bedroom.

"I thought you disabled the alarm!" she hissed.

"So did I," Han hissed back. "Did you get the jewels, at least?"

"No, do you think I'm stupid enough to stick around when an alarm's sounding?" She grabbed Han's hand and started running down the stairs, yanking him behind her. "Come on, let's get out of here before we're discovered!"

Well, at least Han could take the stupid servant uniform off.


	14. Costumes: Leia

Han and Leia – Costumes

"Mommy! Daddy! Look what I got!"

Ben came hobbling up to his parents, his taun-taun costume hindering his step a little and the taun-taun head in danger of toppling off of his head, but all that just made him even cuter. "Look, look!" he shouted, waving his little candy pail.

Han grinned down at his son. "What'd you get, buddy?"

"Candy!" exclaimed the five-year-old, waving his pail from side to side and letting his parents see the hoards of treats inside.

"Wow!" exclaimed Han. "Looks like you've been doin' well in the games!" Of course, he didn't mention that this party was giving out candy to all the kids that played the games, but Ben probably _did_ do well in the games anyway.

"Yeah!" Ben exclaimed back as he grabbed his father's hand. "C'mon, they wanna see the grownup costumes and take a holo!"

"All right, sweetheart, we're coming," said Leia as she and Han rose from their seats and followed Ben to the other end of his school's gym, though it was slow-going since little kids in costumes would be running all over the place and if they weren't careful, running into _them._

"I didn't know they'd want to take a holo," said Leia.

"Hey, relax," said Han, grinning at his wife. "You look fabulous."

"Do I?" asked Leia, staring into her husband's eyes with her own heavily-mascaraed and eyeshadowed eyes. She had been self-conscious about dressing as a Naboo queen, but Han had talked her into it on the basis that she'd be honoring her mother.

"Course you do," said Han. "Hell, that stripe in the middle of your lip makes your lips even sexier. He playfully leaned over, but Leia cringed out of the way.

"Not now," she said. "If you kiss me, you'll smear the makeup."

"Fine, fine," said Han, though he was unable to stop grinning at her white painted face and her hair braided out to the sides of her face like horns. She'd had to use a _ton_ of hairspray just to get the braids to stay in place and it would probably be a nightmare to get all that hairspray out. Not to mention that Han didn't envy her when she would have to go to the refresher in that elaborate orange gown.

"Now do _I_ look all right, my queen?" Han asked in a purring voice.

"Oh, of course you do."

"Really? You sure?"

Leia grinned as widely as she could with her makeup. "Han, what's there to worry about? You're _supposed_ to look scary."

Now Han gave an exaggerated pout. "I'm hurt, sweetheart. It was your idea for me to dress as a zombie in the first place."

"Yes, and you make a very cute zombie." Leia kept grinning at him. "Especially with the green makeup, though I'm surprised Ben wasn't scared of you."

Han snickered at his son, who was already at the holo spot and gesturing for his parents to join him, his taun-taun head still toppling over like it would fall off, though for now it was miraculously staying on. "C'mon, the kid always knows his daddy, even when his daddy's green."

 _That_ was certainly something Han had never thought he'd say out loud, but the school costume party meant any strange thing could happen.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Ben was shouting, though most of the other parents were still on their way to the holo spot as well and most of the kids were still dawdling.

"We're comin', son!" Han shouted back. "Just remember that zombies ain't as fast as taun-tauns and Naboo queens are s'posed to walk all daintily so they don't trip over their dresses."

Ben giggled. "Daddy, do the zombie walk!"

Leia's brow went up as she looked at her husband. "Zombie walk?"

"Yeah, something me and Ben came up with. Here, I'll show you." He stuck his hands out in front of him, curling his fingers like claws, and gave a long growl. "Rrraaarrrrr, I'm a zombie! I wanna eat some BRAINS!" With an exaggerated motion, he kicked one foot in front of him and stomped it on the floor, then he did the same with his other foot. "Braaaaaaiiinnnss! BRRRRAAAAAAAIIIINNNSS!"

Ben was giggling so hard that he had to hold onto his taun-taun head to keep it from falling off, while Leia was rolling her eyes and grinning at the same time. "Well, Ben certainly can't say he doesn't have an entertaining father."

Han snapped out of his "zombie mode" to grin at his wife. "Hey, bein' entertaining is part of the job description for dads. If dressing up as a zombie and growling makes him happy, then I do it."

"True," said Leia, gripping her husband's arm as they finally reached their son, who was still giggling up a storm and nearly dropping his candy. "I hope Ben will always realize how lucky he is to have a father like you."

Han wrapped an arm around his laughing son. "Oh, I think he will."


	15. Shopping: Qi'ra

Han and Qi'ra – Shopping

Han was always wondering what it was like to have _money_.

Normal people used money to make their way in the galaxy. Money could be traded for food, clothing, whatever you wanted. If he had _enough_ money, he could buy whatever he wanted without any limits.

He could buy a ship . . .

But no matter how much he'd daydream about money, he never seemed to get any closer to _having_ it. Stuff he stole went straight to Proxima in exchange for food, shelter, and protection. He could run away – he'd often thought about running away, but without Proxima's protection, the law would get him and he'd be in prison for the rest of his life – if he was lucky.

No, he and Qi'ra couldn't run away unless they could get off Corellia.

Which took money.

He didn't have money – that notion seemed to pound itself into his head every damn day. Every day he'd pass a store where people could buy things for money. If Qi'ra was with him, they'd usually talk about how neat it would be to go in that store and actually _buy stuff._

When they were younger, they'd sometimes go into those stores and pretend that they had won millions of credits and were spending them on a shopping spree. They'd talk about clothes and shoes and toys and games that they would buy with their riches and how amazing it would be to own them forever. A few times they'd even be bold enough to try on the clothes in the fitting rooms, though that was always a risk since if they drew too much attention to themselves, the store employees would ask where their parents were and if they were planning to buy the clothes they were trying on. Still, Han would never forget how cute Qi'ra looked in the bright yellow dress she tried on once, nor would he ever forget how he'd tried on a t-shirt with a smashball team's logo on it and felt for a fleeting moment like a normal kid.

He had vague memories of going to stores with his parents before they died, but he figured that they were probably secondhand stores, given that he remembered a hodgepodge of merchandise instead of the neatly-sorted stuff in regular stores. Still, he also remembered those trips being fun and he even occasionally got a toy there.

Now that they were older, he and Qi'ra didn't go on those pretend shopping sprees anymore. In fact, they both avoided entering stores unless they were sent to steal something from them. Stores just served as a reminder that they didn't have money and might _never_ have money. Why go browsing through things you couldn't have?

Still, sometimes during the night he and Qi'ra would whisper to each other about those old pretend shopping sprees and reminisce about how much fun it was to imagine for an hour or two that they were normal kids who could afford fun stuff.

"You looked so nice in that yellow dress," Han often whispered from his bed. "If I'd had money I would've bought it for you."

"I know," she'd whisper back.

"If I had money _now_ , I'd buy you a dress just like that one, but it'd fit your older self. You know . . . with _curves_."

Qi'ra giggled softly.

"Yeah," said Han. "You'd look so pretty and the fabric would be so soft and comfortable that you'd wanna wear it all the time." Just imagining Qi'ra wearing something like that caused him to give a soft sigh. "I'd wanna kiss you all the time if you had a dress like that."

"You want to kiss me all the time anyway."

"True," said Han, "but I'd want to kiss you _even more._ " He sighed again as he rolled over in bed, but this time it was a more mournful, longing sigh. "Someday we'll have money. Once we get our own ship and blast our way outta here, we'll go on the biggest shopping spree ever and I'll buy you the most beautiful yellow dress I can find."

Qi'ra giggled again. "And I'll buy you a new shirt and jacket, something nice and clean. What color would you like?"

"Hmmm, maybe a brown jacket – or a blue one. Yeah, a blue one would be nice."

"All right, blue it is. We'll also buy ourselves a holovid and maybe even a hologame system."

Han grinned. "Yeah, a hologame system, like those demos we played at the store."

"Yeah," said Qi'ra. "Then you can finally get past the first level on that game where the Imperial guard jumps all over Coruscant to save the Emperor."

"Yeah," said Han, closing his eyes and seeing Qi'ra in a yellow dress behind his eyelids. "It's gonna be great."


	16. Shopping: Leia

Han and Leia – Shopping

"Whoever invented Fete sale days should be shot," Han muttered as he and Leia trudged through the mall, having to inch their way through the crowds while cheery Fete songs played from the ceiling.

"Han, don't talk like that," said Leia. "Where's your Fete spirit?"

"It ain't _here_ , that's for sure," Han grumbled, his every step burning through his feet – a lovely result of wandering around the mall all day. "My feet're killin' me."

"Mine too, but we can't go home yet," said Leia. "Remember what Ben wants most in the galaxy?"

She said that like it was possible to _forget_ what Ben wanted most in the galaxy. The commercials had been playing on the holovid every other minute for what must have been a month and Ben, like every other kid in the galaxy, had fallen head over heels for the "Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend" – a womp rat toy that was three feet tall and, according to the commercial, "huggy snuggy and full of secret fun." The commercial also showed that it had several pockets in its body that held colored pencils, a mini storybook, and other goodies.

"Why does he need such a huge womp rat toy with stuff in its pockets anyway?" Han asked. "Couldn't he ask for a gift that's smaller? Maybe something that isn't wanted by every other kid in the galaxy would be nice too?"

Leia shrugged – or tried to, given that she had bags dangling from both her hands. "Yes, that would be nice, but imagine the look on Ben's face on Fete morning when he gets the toy he's been dreaming about all this time?"

"Okay, yeah, that's a nice thought, but have you thought about how we're gonna _wrap_ the thing?"

Leia's upper teeth brushed over her lower lip. "Er . . . no, not really, but maybe we could just arrange it nicely under the tree so it's the first thing Ben sees when he gets up on Fete morning?"

Han's mouth twisted. "I dunno – the kid usually likes _wrapped_ gifts. You know, he likes ripping off the paper to see what's inside."

"Okay, well, we'll worry about how to wrap it later. First we have to actually _get_ it."

They finally reached the toy store – which was the third toy store they'd tried today. The previous two toy stores were sold out of the Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend and already had a waiting list of parents wanting to be notified as soon as more came in. It was like the Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend had taken over kids' minds and the parents were helpless to fight against it.

The toy store at least a _little_ calmer than the rest of the mall – at least Han and Leia could move around in it. With the Fete tunes playing over the speakers, the little model X-Wings and Y-Wings flying around, and the Fete trees decorated with little toys, Han actually started to feel a little of that Fete spirit coming back to him.

Plus, there it was – a display of the Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend. One Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend was sitting on top of a pile of boxes of Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friends, which brought a grin to Han's face. "Finally!" he exclaimed. "C'mon, let's get one and get outta here."

The box was so large that it took both of them to pick one up and even though the box wasn't all that heavy, it would require both arms for one person to carry it without help and since both Han and Leia were carrying bags as well, they had to carry the box together.

"Ben better appreciate this," Han muttered as he and his wife inched their way to the checkout line, easing the box between them one step at a time.

"He will," said Leia.

"And next year's hot Fete toy had _better_ be something smaller."

Of course there was a long line for the checkout, and of course most of the line was comprised of other parents who were also holding Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend boxes between them. Each couple also had to ease the Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend box onto the counter so it could be scanned and then they had to carefully lift the Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend box off the counter after paying for it, which meant that it took at least five minutes for each couple to check out – longer if they were buying anything else in addition to the Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend.

It seemed like hours before Han and Leia finally reached the front of the line. By now Han's back was aching from carrying the box, but at least they'd be able to get their son a Jumbo Deluxe Womp Rat Friend and then go _home_.

"Long shopping day?" the Torgrutan cashier asked as he scanned the box.

"You have _no_ idea," said Leia.

"I feel for you. I got my kid one of these for his birthday the other day and he lost interest in it by the day after."

Han's jaw dropped. "He lost interest?"

"Anyway, thank you!" Leia quickly interjected before she and Han eased the box off the counter. "Don't worry Han, Ben's not going to lose interest . . . I hope."


	17. With Friends: Qi'ra

With Friends – Han and Qi'ra

"So," said Qi'ra, running her finger around the rim of her glass, "how did you end up with the Wookiee?"

"Heh," said Han. "It's a long story involving mud and chains."

"Oh really?" Qi'ra giggled a little. She seemed to have grown a bit taller and slimmer since Han had last seen her, or maybe she just appeared that way because her hair was so much longer than he'd ever seen it and she was wearing such a fancy dress. Han had never seen her like this – he'd only ever imagined what she'd look like dressed up in clothes she couldn't afford – but the reality was more breathtaking than the fantasy.

[Is this the girl you were talking about, Han?] Chewie asked.

"Yeah, Chewie," said Han. "What do you think of her?"

Chewie cocked his head as if examining her. [She's pretty, but I don't know if I like her eyes. There's something sinister about them.]

 _"_ _Chewie!"_

Now Qi'ra was the one cocking her head. "You can understand him?"

"Yeah," said Han. "Taught myself their language at the Imperial Academy."

"The Imperial Academy," Qi'ra repeated. "You really _have_ gotten around."

"Only to get to you," said Han, clinking his glass against Qi'ra's again, his heart still thumping at the notion that he was actually looking at her again.

Qi'ra directed her smile in Chewie's direction. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend.

"Oh, sorry," Han felt himself reddening. "Chewie, this is Qi'ra. Qi'ra, Chewie – well, full name is Chewbacca."

Qi'ra and Chewie shook hands, with Chewie giving Qi'ra a friendly greeting in his own language even though Qi'ra wouldn't be able to understand him – or so Han thought.

"It's nice to meet you too, Chewie," said Qi'ra. "If you're Han's friend, then you're my friend."

"Huh," said Han, "guess you learned Wookiee language too."

"I've learned a _lot_ of things since we separated," Qi'ra said as she sipped her drink, a somewhat sad tone in her voice. She pushed her hair behind her shoulder with that beautiful hand that Han used to squeeze all the time. Han felt like laughing and crying at the same time as the reality that she was _with him_ again sank in. All those years when he'd been planning to return to Corellia and get her, he'd never known for certain that she would be there when he returned, but now . . . now they _could_ have their life together. They could start over again.

[Han's told me about you,] Chewie was saying to Qi'ra. [He talks about you in this dreamy manner – you must mean a whole lot to him.]

"Dreamy?" Han exclaimed.

Chewie laughed. [That's a compliment, Han,] he said, ruffling the young human's hair like he had done so many times in the last few days. [It means you're sensitive.]

"Sensitive?" Han felt himself reddening again. "Hey, this _sensitive_ guy got you outta that pit!"

Qi'ra laughed, nearly spilling her drink. "Hey, I happen to agree with him that you're nice and sensitive." She reached over and touched his cheek. Her hand was softer than it was when they were young – maybe because she was now doing softer and cleaner work. "We could use more sensitive people in the galaxy."

[Yes,] said Chewie. [I think it was your _sensitivity_ that saved us.]

Qi'ra was giving them an interested look. "This is sounding like an interesting story."

"Oh yeah, it is," said Han. "Short version of the story is that I deserted, got caught, got thrown into a pit and chained to a beast who was s'posed to eat me."

" _Eat_ you?" Qi'ra exclaimed.

Chewie gave a slightly-mournful growl. [The Imperials were starving me, beating me . . . they forced me to . . .] He trailed off, bringing a sudden solemn air to the conversation. Qi'ra stared down into her drink, swallowing awkwardly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know."

Han felt his stomach churning, wishing he hadn't brought up how Chewie tried to eat him. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be forced to _eat_ other prisoners in order to survive and he hoped he would never _have_ to experience anything like that, but what was it like for Chewie?

Though he couldn't reach Chewie's head to ruffle it the way Chewie kept ruffling Han's hair, Han reached over and ruffled the fur on Chewie's arm. "It's okay, pal. All that's over and you ain't ever goin' back."

Chewie was silent, maybe remembering some of the victims he'd been forced to eat. After a few tense moments, he finally said in a low growl, [The Empire thinks Wookiees are animals and treats us _worse_ than animals. My friends could be in the same situation I was in.]

Han gulped again, suddenly losing interest in his drink. "You'll find them, Chewie," he said, squeezing his new friend's arm.

"Yes," said Qi'ra, squeezing his other arm. "I'm sure you will."


	18. With Friends: Leia

With Friends – Han and Leia

Leia's birthday was always hectic. Beautifully hectic, but hectic all the same. For starters, she always had to share her birthday. Growing up on Alderaan, her birthday had always belonged to her and her alone, but now that she and Luke were twins, their birthdays came together, which meant they would share a celebration. In addition to that, she and Luke were galaxy-known names, which meant it was impossible to hide when their birthday was. It still made her blush a little to see her name and Luke's name listed under "Celebrity Birthdays" on the news (though it made Han blush even harder when he saw his own name there on his own birthday).

This year their shared birthday was being spent at a fancy Coruscant restaurant that was a favorite with most senators. "Can't we go somewhere less . . . stuffy upper-class?" Han had asked a few days before as they were planning the party, but Leia assured her husband that it wasn't too stuffy upper-class for him or for Ben and he would still have fun. Han replied saying it had better be enough fun for them because she knew how picky their nine-year-old son was, right?

The restaurant was on the top floor of one of Coruscant's buildings, which meant a lovely domed ceiling from which hanged gold-branched chandeliers, which immediately made Ben smile as he carried in his gifts for his mother and uncle.

"Wow," he said as his gaze went from the chandeliers to the ceiling-to-floor windows, "how high up _are_ we?" He ran up to the window and pressed his nose against it, grinning out at the speeder lanes below them.

"Pretty high," said Han. "C'mon, go put your present on the table."

The table they'd reserved seated Leia, Han, Ben, Luke, Chewie, and the droids (well, it seated 3PO, but since R2 wasn't physically capable of sitting down, he'd just stand by the table to celebrate). That was all the guests they wanted, but of course, they couldn't even settle at their table before they were recognized.

"Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa!" the Rodian waiter exclaimed. "Might I wish a very happy birthday to you both?"

"You may," said Leia, giving the waiter a smile.

"All right then, happy birthday!" the waiter shouted a bit too loudly, which grabbed the attention of other patrons.

"Hey," Han stepped in, "if you wanna wish my wife and brother-in-law a happy birthday, you can help out by makin' sure we have a nice little party without bein' bothered, kay?"

"Oh, absolutely, General Solo!" the waiter exclaimed, patting Han on the shoulder before bending down to Ben's level. "And you must be Ben, it's nice to meet you! Are your mom and uncle having a nice birthday?"

"Yeah," said Ben, "Dad and I made Mom breakfast in bed this morning."

"Wow, I bet she liked that," said the waiter. "Anyway, what kind of drinks would you like?"

Since Leia had made Han promise to save any alcohol until tonight, after Ben was in bed, they all ordered soda except Luke, who ordered caf. Once the waiter took their orders and disappeared into the kitchen, _that_ was when the expected chaos started.

"Senator Organa? Master Skywalker?" asked a man who had apparently come from the next table. Before they could even answer, he added, "Wow, it's really you, let me just say that it's an honor to meet such noble heroes – and on their birthday, no less! What are the odds? Hey, would you like me to buy your food for you? It'd be a birthday present!"

"Thank you," said Leia, her grin now a little forced, "but we're fine."

"You sure? I could at least buy your drinks."

"Didn't you hear her?" exclaimed Han. "She said we're _fine_."

The man shrugged. "All right, all right, I get it, you want to be alone for your birthday and here I am blabbing on to you and you're probably wondering why this total stranger is even talking to you, but then again since you're famous and all you're probably used to strangers talking to you."

Ben's eyes were shifting nervously – already Leia could tell that he was getting uncomfortable. "Please sir," she said in the most polite voice she could manage, "I know you mean well, but my son doesn't like strangers."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said the man, but instead of leaving, the man got right into Ben's face. "It's okay Ben – see, I know your name because you're famous too. It's okay to be shy – when I was a kid I was shy too, but I don't bite. I just wanted to wish your mother and uncle a happy birthday, that's all. You understand?"

"Yeah," said Ben, glancing at the floor.

"I'll go eat at my own table now," said the man, still in Ben's face, "but if you or your parents want me to buy them something, don't hesitate to ask."

Finally the man left. Leia and Han each squeezed their son's hands and Chewie growled that the man was lucky that he was in a good mood today.

"It's all right, guys," said Luke. "Now we can have a nice family birthday party . . ."

"AND NOW!" the lead singer of the band in the corner belted, "THIS NEXT SONG IS DEDICATED TO SENATOR LEIA ORGANA AND JEDI MASTER LUKE SKYWALKER IN HONOR OF THEIR BIRTHDAY! LET'S ALL GIVE THEM A BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE!"

". . . or not," Luke finished.


	19. Animal Ears: Qi'ra

Animal Ears – Han and Qi'ra

There were no words for how much Han _hated_ the sound of Corellian hounds.

Some people said Corellian hounds "barked," but anyone who said that had clearly never been chased by them. "Barking" would indicate that they made friendly noises like a pet – that maybe they _were_ pets. No, nothing so nasty could ever be a pet.

Besides, they _didn't_ bark. They snarled, they growled, they howled, they snapped at you with knife-like teeth, their ears perked up when you so much as tiptoed past them, they could catch your scent from it seemed like a million miles away. When they chased you, you could smell the thick, foul stench of their breath as they roared after you. Han knew they had to be bred to be so vicious – no animal would just _naturally_ evolve like that. They didn't even hunt for food – they just . . . hunted.

Sometimes he could even hear them in his dreams. He'd be running, running, running, up and down alleys, ducking around corners, but always those hounds would be howling into his ears as if they were about to pounce on him, the stench of their breath filling his nostrils as if trying to knock him out. In some dreams they actually caught him and ripped into his flesh with those teeth, but in other dreams he just kept running, running, running, trapped in an eternity of running, forever to be hunted by those beasts.

This was one such nightmare. He ran, and ran, and ran, those awful noises pounding in his ears, the stench almost making it unbearable to breathe, his legs aching but his mind knowing that if he slowed down for even a moment the hounds would catch him. The worst part was that somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was dreaming. He knew, but he couldn't control anything – he couldn't stop himself from running or the hounds from chasing him. _Come on,_ some vague part of his mind said, _if this is in your mind, you should be able to STOP IT!_

He should, but he didn't know _how._

Could he wake himself up? He didn't know how to do that either. People always pinched themselves to test whether or not they were dreaming, so maybe if he pinched himself he would wake up, but doing so would require slowing down.

And dream or not, he could still feel the pain of the hounds' teeth.

 _Come on, wake up!_

Despite the pounding in his mind and the hazy knowledge that if he woke up the hounds would disappear, he still kept running as if he had endless adrenaline. How did he know he was asleep anyway? He couldn't figure out just _how_ he knew. The sweat pouring down his face sure felt real, the hounds sure looked, sounded, and smelled real, so how did he know he was dreaming?

And if he knew he was dreaming, why couldn't he _wake up?_

 _Wake up, dammit, wake up!_

 _WAKE UP!_

"Han, wake up! Wake up!"

The voice seemed to come from outside his reality, like he wasn't hearing it with his ears but instead it was being projected into his mind.

He also felt like he knew the voice . . .

"Han, come on, WAKE UP! You're having a nightmare!"

With the voice's sudden jolt in volume, it was as if Han were being yanked out of one world and into another. His eyes snapped open and suddenly he wasn't running anymore and the hounds were gone, though his face was still drenched with sweat.

"Han, are you all right?"

Now that he was awake, he could immediately recognize the voice as Qi'ra. After a few blinks in the dark, he was able to make out her silhouette hovering over him.

"Han?" she asked in a desperate voice. "Han, are you awake?"

Han's breath was coming in and out in uneven gasps, as if he really _had_ just been running for his life. "Hounds . . ." he whispered, his throat dry, ". . . the hounds were chasin' me . . . I couldn't get away."

"Oh Han," Qi'ra whispered back before leaning over and gathering him up in a hug. She didn't reassure him that it was only a dream or tell him that he was safe now that he was awake, since they both knew that saying things like that was bantha shit and wouldn't make anything better – if anything it would just be idiotic and make him feel worse.

For them, running from the hounds wasn't a nightmare that could be stopped simply by waking up.

No, it was life.


	20. Animal Ears: Leia

Animal Ears – Han and Leia

"Ben? Ben, what's wrong?" Han asked when Ben came home from school in tears, slamming his backpack on the floor and slumping down on the sofa. The father sat next to his son and stroked his shoulder, but Ben wouldn't answer his question.

"Ben?" Han repeated. "Did something happen at school?"

Ben only sniffled and rubbed his eyes.

Han leaned over and kissed his son's head before running his thumb under his son's eyes to wipe his tears. "It's all right son, you can tell me."

Finally Ben spoke, his voice shaking as he did so. "M-my . . . my teacher told me I draw wrong."

"What?"

Ben sniffled again. "W-we were drawing animals, so I drew a tooka, b-but when my teacher saw the drawing . . . sh-she said I'd made the ears too big!"

Han felt his teeth grinding.

"Th-then . . ." Ben continued after wiping his nose with his sleeve, ". . . then she held my drawing up and told all the other kids that it was how they SHOULDN'T draw and all the kids laughed at how big the tooka's ears were!" With that, he burst into tears again, collapsing on his father's chest.

Han cradled his son in his arms while trying to calm down the fury that was building up inside him. Who said something like that about a _five-year-old's_ drawing? Weren't kids' art teachers supposed to _encourage_ creativity, not slam it down?

"Can I see the drawing?" Han asked as gently as he could.

Ben sobbed harder. "It's an _awful_ drawing! I don't ever wanna draw again!"

Han kissed his son's head and wiped his eyes again. "C'mon Ben, I'm sure it's a very nice drawing. Why don't you let me see it?"

"My teacher said . . ."

"Nevermind what _she_ said," said Han. "She doesn't get that drawing is s'posed to be _fun._ I'll bet she's angry that someone picked on _her_ drawing when she was a kid and now she's takin' it out on other innocent kids."

Ben didn't answer, but after sniffling again, he slid off the couch and picked up his backpack.

"Yeah," said Han, "c'mon, let's see the tooka!"

Ben remained silent as he sat back on the couch with the backpack in his lap. He was breathing in little increments, as if trying to calm himself down before showing his father the drawing. It took at least a minute or two before he finally opened his backpack and pulled out the drawing.

The tooka was colored light blue, standing on four cute little stick legs and bearing a wide smile – along with two pointy ears that were bigger than its head. Han couldn't help but smile.

"Why Ben," he said, wrapping his arm around his son, "I think this is a great drawing."

"His _ears are too big!"_ Ben shouted, as if he had already internalized what his teacher had said. Seeing his son so broken over a drawing was starting to make Han want to cry himself. That art teacher was _definitely_ getting a call soon.

"He's got big ears," said Han, "but that makes him cuter." He pointed at the smile. "Look how happy he is! He likes his ears!"

"No he DOESN'T!" Ben shouted, slapping the drawing and almost knocking it out of Han's hands. "All the kids laugh at his big ears."

"Well that's because the kids are bein' jerks," said Han, "but the tooka's daddy knows those are special ears that can hear extra-well. If the kids knew how well the tooka could hear, they'd _wish_ they had ears like that."

Ben wiped his hand over his eyes again.

"You know what?" Han said. "This guy looks like Mr. Tookie? Why don't you go get Mr. Tookie and show him the drawing?"

"Mr. Tookie's ears aren't that big," said Ben.

"No, but every tooka is unique – none of 'em will have the exact same size ears. C'mon, go get Mr. Tookie."

Ben hesitated for a minute, but then he slid off the sofa and headed for his room to get the toy tooka Leia had made from one of Han's old shirts when Ben was a baby. While Ben was in his room, Han quickly made a call to his wife at work and told her what happened.

" _What_ kind of an art teacher does _that?_ " Leia's hologram shouted.

"Don't ask me," said Han, "but I'm gonna be givin' her a call later and tellin' her off for it."

"For once I wholeheartedly support that," said Leia. "Feel free to send her the foulest Corellian swears you can think of – just don't let Ben hear you."

Just then, Ben returned with Mr. Tookie dangling from his hand, perking up a little when he saw his mother's hologram. "Hi Mommy," he said, waving with his free hand.

"Hi sweetie," said Leia. "Your daddy told me about your drawing, could I see it?"

Ben swallowed a little before picking up the drawing from his father's lap, which caused a huge smile to break on his mother's face. "Wow, I love it! It looks like that tooka could be friends with Mr. Tookie."

"But all the kids laugh at him for his big ears," said Ben.

"Well Mr. Tookie doesn't," said Han, patting his son's shoulder. "Cause Mr. Tookie likes those big ears."

Ben held his toy in one hand and the drawing in the other, making them face each other as if they were meeting. "Yeah," he finally said, "they're friends."


	21. Masks: Qi'ra

Han and Qi'ra – Masks

"Maybe we could use masks to get away," eleven-year-old Han suggested one night when the kids were supposed to be sleeping.

"Masks?" Qi'ra whispered. "Really?"

"Yeah," said Han. "If we had masks, we could dress up as different people and stow away on a ship."

Qi'ra snickered. "Han, even if that worked, where would we go?"

"Wherever we want," said Han, so casually, as if he hadn't even thought about what would happen after they ran away.

"Han," Qi'ra sighed, sinking her head into her pillow, "you never think anything through. Wouldn't people have suspicions about a couple of kids wandering around wearing masks?"

"Well, okay . . . maybe we could run off with a circus or something. They wear masks at circuses, right?"

"And when do circuses ever come here?" Qi'ra argued. "Even if one did, where would we _get_ the masks?"

"We'd swipe 'em from a costume store or something," said Han. "Swipe 'em, then sneak into a circus, then fly off with 'em."

It sounded like such an easy plan when coming from the eleven-year-old's mouth, making Qi'ra almost want to try it. Maybe when she was eleven, she would have wanted to do something like that, but now she was mature enough to actually think about what might happen _after_ getting away – _if_ they got away at all. "Han, we'd need more than masks and a circus to get away." She rolled over to face his cot, where he was lying on his back – she could imagine him staring dreamily at the ceiling and imagining that he was gazing up at the stars. "One day we _will_ get away, but we'll need a better plan for it."

Han didn't answer for several moments. At first Qi'ra thought he had fallen asleep, but then he said in a hesitant voice, "Okay, my idea sucked, I just . . . I can't stand it here."

"Better here than on the streets," Qi'ra reasoned, to herself as well as Han.

"Barely," said Han.

"At least here we have food and protection," said Qi'ra. "I mean, we don't have parents, so we've got to made do with what we've got."

Han was once again silent for several minutes, still staring at the ceiling. "I miss Mom and Dad," he whispered, so softly that Qi'ra could barely hear him, as if he weren't even aware that he was saying it out loud.

"I know," Qi'ra whispered back. "I miss mine too."

"I mean," said Han, "it wasn't like we had much back when they were alive, but least we had, you know, family. Least they actually gave a crap about me."

" _I_ give a crap about you."

"Well you're the only one."

Qi'ra didn't know how to respond to that. She too rolled over to her back and stared up into the darkness. "It'll get better someday, Han. We _won't_ be here forever."

"How d'you _know?"_

Qi'ra felt her heart thump. "I _don't_ know," she admitted, "but we can hope."

"My dad hoped too," Han muttered. "He did a lotta hopin' that one day we'd all fly off this shithole planet, but then he _died._ Hope didn't do him any good. _"_

She heard a clinking noise coming from Han's bed – he was likely fiddling with his father's dice – and she found herself wishing that she had some sort of memento of her own parents, something of theirs she could hold in the dark night. She had to admit, Han had a point about hope. What good had hope done _either_ of them?

"If we were to fool Proxima's goons," she finally said, "we'd need a better disguise than just masks. We'd have to steal whole outfits in order for it to work. Then of course the hounds could still catch our scent, so we'd need some sort of odor spray so they wouldn't recognize us."

"Yeah," said Han. "We could also maybe make some of our time through water so they'd lose our scent."

"Which means we'd have to learn to swim," said Qi'ra. "Maybe we could teach ourselves."

"I can _sorta_ swim," said Han. "Least, I remember my mom and dad takin' me to the ocean sometimes, but I think they held me up in the water and told me to paddle, so I dunno if I can swim without that, but I could try."

"That's where we could teach ourselves to swim – the ocean," said Qi'ra. "You know what, maybe your idea to run off with a circus wasn't _so_ crazy. If we could teach ourselves to swim, maybe we could teach ourselves to do acrobatics too and the circus would let us join."

"Joinin' the circus." Qi'ra heard Han snicker. "Sounds like fun – maybe we should get started learnin' acrobatics and teachin' ourselves to swim."

They stayed up half the night whispering plans to each other that got more and more elaborate. Qi'ra didn't really think any of them would work, but it was fun to dream about it. Maybe there was something to hope after all.


	22. Masks: Leia

Han and Leia – Masks

"What's the point of masquerade balls?" Han asked.

"Fun," was all Leia said, her eyes peeking out of a shiny purple mask with points on the end and decked with gold thread around the edges.

"What's _fun_ about havin' to dance with your sight hindered?" Han retorted, his own mask blocking maybe half of his field of vision.

Leia cocked her head, giving him a cheeky grin. "Intrigue. Tonight you and everyone around you can be someone else. Sometimes people like to guess who everyone else is under their masks."

Han shrugged. "Well you'd have to be pretty stupid not to recognize someone when they've just got their eyes covered."

That made Leia burst into giggles. "First off, you'd be surprised there, and second, it's all supposed to be in good fun – I don't think most people are _actually_ fooled by the masks."

"Kay," said Han, swiping a cookie from the snack table. "Still don't see much of a point, though." Truth be told, the mask was pinching his nose and the strap holding it on was pressing into his head. At least he had the cookie and his beautiful wife to distract him. Leia's dress was bright purple to match her mask and the skirt was all ruffled and shook when she walked. She also wore a purple feather in her hair to complete the ensemble of purple.

She smiled at him, swaying from side to side and making the skirt swish around her legs. "We used to have masquerade balls on Alderaan," she said softly.

"You did?"

"Yeah," said Leia, reaching over and stroking her husband's shoulder. "I wasn't really supposed to go to my parents' balls when I was little, but I remember being fascinated when I saw them in their masks and I wanted to wear one too, so one time when I was around five my mother made me my own masquerade ballgown and mask and let me go to the ball for a little while before I had to go to bed." Her voice became dreamy, distant, like it often did when she talked about Alderaan. "I remember it feeling like I had been transported to another world. All these people in masks – some I knew and some I didn't – hiding their faces as if they had some big secret. Then I realized that I was in on the secret too since I had my own mask. Even as I got older and was required to attend my parents' parties, the masquerade balls never lost their magic."

"Huh," said Han, "guess I never thought about it that way." He couldn't think of anything else to say, but the way she described her childhood masquerade made him wish that he could have met her parents.

"Sometime we should take Ben to a masquerade," said Leia. "I'll bet he'd like it."

"I dunno," said Han, "he might not be too keen on wearin' a mask. He might also get scared of all the other people in masks."

Leia twisted her mouth. "Well . . . maybe if we explain everything to him beforehand and agree to leave if he gets scared."

"Maybe," said Han. Secretly he wondered if Ben might actually enjoy wearing a mask once he got used to the idea. It might be a way for him to hide from the rest of the world.

"Anyway," Han said after clearing his throat, "may I have this dance, oh mysterious princess in a mask that I don't recognize?"

"I thought you'd never ask, mysterious stranger in a mask."

As he led her into the ballroom and they started waltzing among the other masked couples to a tune that Han thought sounded rather mournful, Han found that he couldn't stop thinking about Leia's childhood masquerades and the thought of Ben attending a masquerade. Would he be frightened, or would he be entranced like young Leia was? Ben would certainly look cute in a little masquerade outfit, but the idea of him looking cute shouldn't be a reason to expose him to something he wasn't ready for.

Then for some reason he thought of his own childhood and how he sometimes wanted to just disappear from Proxima, from Corellia, from the galaxy. A mask was a way of disappearing, even if everyone knew who you were. After all, Han's vision was about fifty percent decreased thanks to his own mask, which added an air of darkness and even mystery, if you wanted to call that, to his perspective to the ball.

Damn, Leia's story had gotten him going. How did she do that?

"Is this ball like those masquerades on Alderaan?" Han asked.

Leia looked around, as if she were mentally comparing this ball to those cherished childhood balls. "Not exactly, but it's still magical." She brought Han's hand up to her lips and kissed it. "Plus, I have a wonderful person to dance with."

Han leaned over and kissed her forehead. "So do I."


	23. Making Out: Qi'ra

Han and Qi'ra – Making Out

Han's heart beat faster, faster, faster until it was practically jumping. He and Qi'ra slammed from one wall to the other, the capes brushing over them. Each slam sent pain through his body, but he barely noticed. Hell, he probably would welcome a concussion if it meant they could just keep going like this. Going, going, going . . .

And then Beckett interrupted.

"Cockblock," Han found himself muttering as he followed Beckett down the hall.

"Oh, that's real mature," said Beckett. "Look, if you want to make out with a pretty girl, go to a brothel instead of Kessel."

Han twisted his mouth, noting how Beckett seemed to be storming in front of him. "Why don't you like Qi'ra?" he found himself asking.

Beckett gave a long sigh as he turned around to face the younger man. "Look Han, there are things in the galaxy that you don't understand – maybe you don't even _want_ to understand them – but _not_ understanding them is a great way to get yourself killed.

"And what does any of that have to do with Qi'ra?"

Beckett sighed again. "You really are a lovesick fool, you know that?"

"Look, I know you miss Val, but that doesn't mean . . ."

A shadow crossed over Beckett's face. "You think this is about _Val?_ What, you think that since the love of my life died that means I can't handle seein' you with your girlfriend? You think I'm _that_ petty?"

Han held up his hands, showing his palms in a gesture of apology. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, but seriously, why _don't_ you like Qi'ra?"

Beckett growled through his nose. "You think all this is a big game, don't you? You think that after we get the coaxium and get our money everything's gonna be all hunky-dory and you and Qi'ra can go fly off together and live happily ever after?"

Han found himself unable to answer, since that kind of _was_ what he was planning.

"It ain't that simple, kid," said Beckett, putting his hand on Han's shoulder. "I used to think like that too, but I learned the hard way that it's _never_ that simple."

"Well . . . maybe my luck ain't the same as yours," Han said awkwardly. "Just cause somethin' didn't work out for _you_ doesn't mean it won't work out for _anyone._ "

Beckett gave another one of those long, low sighs, making Han think that there was something obvious that he was supposed to be grasping, though he had no clue what it was. "Kid, you got optimism. A little bit of optimism is fine, but too much just sets you up for disappointment."

"Qi'ra is _not_ gonna disappoint me!" Han argued.

"Oh, you think Dryden Voss is gonna just let her waltz out the door once we get the coaxium?"

"We can take Dryden Voss," said Han. "I ain't afraid of him."

"And that makes you an idiot," said Beckett, his brow furrowing before he sighed yet again. "Sooner or later you'll learn, kid."

"Look, I've known Qi'ra since I was ten," Han argued. "I'd trust her with my life."

"Which makes you a _bigger_ idiot," said Beckett. "You think people never change? You think desperation never drives them to do unspeakable things that they once upon a time would've never considered?"

"Qi'ra ain't like that."

"And you can read her mind and tell that she's as innocent as you, can't you?" Beckett shook his head, as if he were disappointed in Han, though Han still didn't quite understand why. "If you ain't gonna listen," Beckett said, "you're in for a mighty rude awakening, kid." With a groan, he turned back around and headed for the lounge, leaving Han staring after him.

Han felt a bit like Beckett had punched him in the face again. What did _he_ know about Qi'ra anyway? Sure, Han and Qi'ra had spent three years apart, but before that they had been inseparable – and it wasn't like they'd chosen to spend those years apart anyway. Maybe Beckett had never known what it was like to be able to _completely_ rely on someone the way he and Qi'ra could. Neither of them would have survived those long years in Proxima's gang without the other. Han remembered how they had split goods to ensure that they both got to eat, how they had pulled each other out of tight situations, how they shared their dream of flying off into the stars one day. Did Beckett ever experience that same tightness, even with Val?

Han found himself pitying the older man. What must it be like to have let the galaxy get to you so badly that you couldn't believe in trust and honesty anymore? It must be pretty damn lonely.

He hoped he would never find out.


	24. Making Out: Leia

WARNING: This chapter mentions . . . certain body parts.

Han and Leia – Making Out

Han's eyes closed as he absorbed the sensation in his mouth, tasted Leia's tongue, brushed his own tongue over her teeth, barely able to breathe. He was sure their clothes would be off in a few minutes except for . . .

"Why d'you guys suck on each other's tongues?"

. . . Ben.

Han and Leia both jolted themselves out of the kiss to find their son standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes bulged as if he knew he had just seen something he wasn't supposed to see. "Oh, hey son," Han said with a sheepish grin, hoping he didn't have Leia's saliva showing on his lips. "Ain't you watchin' your cartoons?"

"They're over," said Ben. "Why d'you suck on Mom's tongue like that?"

"Cause I love her," Han said, feeling his face heat up and hoping Ben wouldn't see the redness.

Ben blinked at his parents. "But why would you wanna suck on her tongue, even if you love her? It sounds gross."

Leia's cheeks were turning pink. "Well Ben, there are some things about love that . . . you'll understand when you're older."

"You mean like what you and Dad do in bed?"

"What?" Han and Leia exclaimed together, their faces reddening harder.

"What you and Dad do in bed," Ben repeated, his eyes shifting from Leia to Han and back again. "You know, how Dad puts his penis in Mom's vagina."

"WHAT?" Han and Leia exclaimed together again.

Ben only shrugged. "We learned about it in school. It's how people make babies – that's how you made me, right? - but the teacher also says people enjoy it cause it feels good or something. Is suckin' on tongues like that too?"

There was a long, awkward silence after that. Leia gritted her teeth as she looked at her husband with bulged eyes and Han figured his own eyes were equally bulged. He and Leia hadn't really prepared how they would give their son "the talk," but he would have thought that _they_ would be the ones to tell him and he wouldn't have just learned at school without his parents even being consulted.

"Well . . ." Leia finally said, ". . . yes, it's kind of like that."

"Am I gonna like it when I grow up too?" Ben asked, his eyes wide, as if he were discovering some new aspect of life even though he'd already discovered how babies were made.

"Er, probably," said Han. "Maybe not, it all depends."

"On what?"

"On . . . uh, what you like and what you don't, I guess. The way your brain's wired."

Ben's eyes were still wide. "So, my brain could be wired to like suckin' on people's tongues or it might not?"

Han was starting to wish he could fall through the floor. How did they get into this conversation, anyway? He and Leia would have to be more careful about what they did when Ben was within earshot. "Look Ben, you'll understand this stuff when you get older, okay?"

"You mean when I go through puberty?"

By now Leia was so red that she looked like she'd been in the sun way too long and judging by the heat rushing to Han's face, he suspected that he looked the same. "So," Leia said, "you learned about puberty in school too?"

"Yeah," said Ben. "My teacher says we gotta learn about this stuff so we're ready for when puberty comes. Will puberty be when I like suckin' on tongues?"

Han ground his teeth. "Maybe, I dunno. It's the sorta thing you do with someone you really, really love."

"Like you and Mom?"

Han managed to grin despite the fact that he wanted to fall through the floor. "Yeah, like me and Mom."

Ben grinned back as if he were completely oblivious to how awkward all this was. "I hope someday I find someone I love as much as you and Mom love each other."

Leia walked up to her son and ruffled his hair. "I'm sure you will, sweetheart." After bending over and kissing his head, she took a deep breath. "By the way, Ben, it's not polite to talk about private parts. You can talk about them with us since we're your parents, and I guess your teacher talks about them in school, but otherwise, it's not polite to talk about them."

"Why? What makes them private, anyway?"

Han sighed. "We'll tell you when you're older – if you don't learn it in school first."


	25. Eating Ice Cream: Qi'ra

Han and Qi'ra – Eating Ice Cream

"Come on Han, I'm going to teach you how to beg,"

Ten-year-old Han followed behind Qi'ra. He had only been part of the White Worms for a couple of weeks, but already his old life with his parents felt far away. At least Qi'ra had taken him under her wing and taught him what he needed to know – he didn't know how he'd survive without her.

"I already know how to beg," he said. "I did it plenty when I was wandrin' the streets."

"Yes, but how much did people actually _give_ you?" asked Qi'ra. "There's an _art_ to begging, Han – you've gotta make people feel so sorry for you that they can't help but give you stuff." She stopped in front of a small ice cream shop.

Han found himself staring longingly at the door with the ice cream cone painting on it. "Been a long time since I last had ice cream . . ."

"Well this is your chance," said Qi'ra. "Come on, let's go in."

Han gulped, suddenly wondering if they'd get kicked out if they tried begging for ice cream. He might see those big tubs of ice cream and they'd trigger memories of the extremely-rare times when his parents took him out for ice cream. It was probably only on his birthday – yes, it was probably just on his birthday when they'd do it, and they probably couldn't even afford it then. He didn't know a lot about money back when his parents were alive, but he still knew they were poor.

"Before we go in, look at me," said Qi'ra.

Han obeyed.

"All right," Qi'ra continued, "now show me your begging face."

"My what?"

Qi'ra sighed in an exasperated manner. "You were out wandering the streets and you don't have a begging face?"

"There's a _face_ you need for begging?"

Qi'ra sighed again. "Okay, pretend you're asking me for money. How'd you do it when you were on the streets?"

"You want me to pretend I'm _still_ on the streets?" Han shouted, feeling his chest tighten. "I ain't doin' that!"

"Why not?"

How could Han explain that? How could he tell her that he just thinking about the indifferent glances from passing adults as he cried for money made him sick to his stomach? How could he tell her that he still had nightmares about those long days of wandering until his feet blistered with his stomach still empty and those long nights of trying to sleep curled up in cold alleys? How could he tell her that he'd give anything to forget everything about those days?

But then Qi'ra put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, Han, you don't have to pretend that you're still on the street if you don't want to." She glanced at the street below her. "I don't like remembering my time between my parents dying and Proxima's goons finding me either." With a deep breath, she looked back up at Han. "Anyway, here's a good begging face."

She widened her eyes and looked up, breathing rapidly as she frowned desperately. Han found himself thinking that she suddenly looked like a little kid even though she was older than him. "See, it's easy," she said. "Can you do that?"

Han did his best to imitate her, though it hurt his eyes a little to make them so wide and round.

"Great!" exclaimed Qi'ra. "With that face combined with your natural cuteness, they won't be able to resist."

"Wait," Han exclaimed, relaxing his face, "whaddaya mean _natural cuteness?"_

"Just what I said," said Qi'ra. "You've got an adorable face – it makes you look younger than you are, in fact. That kind of face is super-valuable in our line of work."

Han twisted his mouth. "Are you sayin' I look like a little kid?"

"Hey, that's a compliment," said Qi'ra, gently pinching his cheek. "It means _money._ The longer you can keep your baby face, the better you'll be at begging."

 _Baby face._ Han wanted to protest and say he didn't have a baby face, but on the other hand, what Qi'ra was saying made sense. Adults would probably rather give money to a cute little kid than a teenager.

"Anyway," said Qi'ra, "are you ready for ice cream?"

"I guess so," said Han.

"Then let's go in there and make the ice cream sellers feel so sorry for us that they'll want to give us enough ice cream to last a year!"

They didn't get enough ice cream to last a year, but five minutes later they emerged from the shop, each licking a large ice cream cone.

"See, what did I tell you?" asked Qi'ra. "The adorable baby face works wonders."

Han nodded as he licked his ice cream. If having an adorable baby face meant people would give him stuff, he'd try to keep it as long as possible.


	26. Eating Ice Cream: Leia

Eating Ice Cream – Han and Leia

Leia swayed from side to side as she stood in the kitchen, running her hand up and down the part of her robe that covered her baby bump. "It's all right, sweetheart," she murmured to her stomach. "Daddy's gonna come home with our food any minute now." She tapped her bare foot, wondering what was taking him so long. Surely there weren't a lot of people grocery shopping this late at night.

Finally she heard the door to their apartment slide open, causing a grin to dig into her face. "Your daddy's here!" she exclaimed to her stomach as Han came staggering into the kitchen, his hair still disheveled from being woken up in the middle of the night, his pajamas peeking out from the jacket he'd thrown on over them, but holding up the shopping bag containing the object of Leia's cravings.

"Here it is," Han said in a breathless voice. "Shoberry ice cream, just as the baby ordered. He gave a long yawn as he placed the bag on the kitchen table. "Kid better appreciate what his daddy does for him."

"You don't know it's a _him_ ," Leia chided.

"Him, her, whatever." Han yawned again as he let the jacket fall to the floor and slumped down on a kitchen chair to remove his boots. "Either way, it's got a big appetite and seems to love keepin' Daddy from gettin' a good night's sleep."

Leia practically dove down on the kitchen chair next to him, ice cream scoop, bowl, and spoon in hand as Han finished removing his boots and tossed them under the table. "And he or she appreciates his or her daddy very much for it." She leaned over and kissed her husband's cheek. "I'll bet Daddy would love to join Mommy for ice cream, wouldn't he?"

Han looked at her with sleepy eyes that were blinking slowly. "Tell the baby that Daddy would like to go to _bed_ now."

Leia pouted at her husband as she scooped the ice cream into her bowl. "But what if the baby gets lonely?"

"How can the baby get lonely?" Han cocked his head at her. "He or she or whatever always has _you_ around."

"But if Mommy's lonely, then the baby gets lonely," Leia protested. "The baby will sense Mommy's feelings."

Han gave yet another yawn. "Fine, fine, Daddy'll join you so the baby won't get lonely. Wouldn't want the baby to get lonely – then he or she might want Daddy to go out in the middle of the night again." He groggily fetched his own bowl and spoon, after which Leia scooped him his own ice cream.

The ice cream was _so_ delicious – perfectly sweet and fruity and satisfying. "The baby loves the ice cream," she said between bites. "Daddy was so nice to go get it."

"Well tell the kid thank you," said Han, dreamily eating his own ice cream. "Yeah, it's pretty good, not sure if it's get-up-to-get-it-in-the-middle-of-the-night good, but good. Why can't the kid time these cravings better?"

"Han, the baby doesn't know night from day yet," laughed Leia. "It's always dark in the womb no matter what time it is."

Han snickered. "Wonder what the baby'll think when it sees light for the first time."

"It will probably be really overwhelming – for both of us – when the time comes."

"You mean all three of us," said Han. "I'll probably be a nervous wreck."

"Probably," Leia responded with a knowing smile, trying to ignore the twist in her stomach. Even though she had a noticeable baby bump now, it was still difficult to imagine actually _having_ the baby. Some people said childbirth was the most painful experience in the galaxy, though Leia had difficulty believing that after experiencing Vader's mind probe. Still, what would it be like?

And what would it be like _after_ the birth, when she and Han would be solely responsible for raising a little life? Her heart was suddenly racing. A million things could go wrong during pregnancy and a million things could go wrong _after_ pregnancy. Would they be able to handle it?

A loud snore jolted her out of her thoughts. She looked to the side and saw that Han had fallen asleep with his head on the table and his hand in the process of spooning ice cream out of the bowl. She giggled slightly at the sight. "Well, baby," she whispered as she stood up and put the ice cream tub in the freezer, "it looks like you've managed to tire your daddy out again." She put her own bowl and spoon in the sink and gently pried Han's spoon out of his hand, which didn't seem to disturb him one bit.

After rinsing the dishes off and leaving them in the sink for a proper washing tomorrow, she gently shook her snoring husband's shoulder. "Han, wake up, let's get back to bed."

Han's eyes slightly opened. "Did you just wake me up just to go to bed?"

"Well, the baby doesn't want its daddy to have a sore neck and back in the morning."

Han smiled as he reached over and put his hand on Leia's abdomen. "Okay, the baby's got a point."

"Besides," Leia said as Han got to his feet, "Daddy needs to be rested in case the baby gets another craving."


	27. Genderswapping: Qi'ra

Genderswapping – Han and Qi'ra

"I wish I were a man," Qi'ra exclaimed, flopping down on her cot.

"What?" Han exclaimed, rushing up to her.

"I wish I were a man," Qi'ra repeated, burying her face in her pillow.

"Why?"

Qi'ra sniffled into her pillow, her body trembling as Han put his hand on her back. "If I were a man . . . Proxima wouldn't be . . . _lending me out!"_

Han gulped, his heart drumming against his ribs. He knew Proxima sometimes "lent out" female White Worms when they were legally adults, but . . . but he hadn't thought it would happen to _Qi'ra._ Qi'ra was too nice, too intelligent, too . . . well, _everything_ to be leant out like a prostitute.

"When?" was all Han could say, and he found he had to force even that word out.

Qi'ra sniffled again. "Next week," she whispered. "Proxima's apparently getting a lot of money for me."

Han suddenly wanted to vomit. "The bitch can't do this!"

"She can and she is," said Qi'ra, her face still buried in the pillow.

"Well . . . well what if you got pregnant?"

"She has pills I'm supposed to take and she made it very clear that if I try to get out of it, I'll be back out in the streets." She finally raised her head up from the pillow, letting Han see her red eyes in the dim light. "I don't know what to do."

Han gently stroked her hair. "Let's get outta here," he said. "Tonight."

"And go _where?_ Han, it's not that simple. We have no money and no IDs. At least here we have protection."

"You think bein' treated like a _slave_ is protection?" Han argued. "Qi'ra, Proxima's lending out your _body._ What kind of sick protection is _that?"_

Qi'ra was gasping, wrapping her arms around herself as if that would protect her from what Proxima was planning to do with her. "I _wish I were a man!"_ she cried again, tears streaming down her face as she looked into Han's eyes. "When _you_ turn eighteen, you won't have to worry about _this!"_

Han wished he knew what to say. "Well . . . maybe that's how we can get outta here. You disguise yourself as a man and I disguise myself as a woman and we make ourselves some fake IDs . . ."

"Do you know _how_ to make fake IDs?" Qi'ra retorted. "Do you know how to make IDs that would fool the Imperials?"

"No . . ." Han was forced to admit.

"And if you disguised yourself as a woman, you'd give yourself away the instant you said something," Qi'ra continued.

"Okay, so I'd pretend to be a _mute_ woman. You could do the talkin' for me in your man disguise." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Qi'ra, we can't let Proxima do this to you."

"I don't have a choice."

"Yes you _do!"_ Han insisted. "You can choose to run away tonight, before Proxima does this."

Tears were dripping down Qi'ra's face. "And then we're back to starving on the streets – or the authorities get us and we spend the rest of our lives in prison."

"And this _ain't_ prison?" Han pressed.

Qi'ra sniffled again, rubbing her eyes despite the fact that the tears kept flowing. "It's better than _actual_ prison."

"What, even though Proxima can force you to . . ."

"Haven't you ever heard of prison rape?" Qi'ra interrupted, a sudden harshness in her voice. "At least . . . at least this way it's only for one night and then I can come back here. In an actual prison, it could last for _years._ " She took a deep breath, as if summoning up her courage. "So yes, it _is_ better here."

Han could only stare at her, wishing he knew what to say, wishing he had a foolproof plan of escape, wishing he at least knew how to make a fake ID, feeling completely and utterly useless. "Why'd our lives have to be like this?" he whispered.

Qi'ra swallowed. "Fate. Stupid, random _fate._ Some people are lucky enough to be born with millions of credits, while others are born on crumbling planets to poor parents who die young and leave their kids all alone."

Han felt his own eyes welling up. "If I could turn myself into a woman and take your place next week, I would."

That statement only made Qi'ra's tears flow faster. "Even if you could do that, I'd never _want_ you to." She pulled a strip of cloth that made for a makeshift handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose. "No, I'll endure it and then it will be over."

"Until the _next_ time Proxima decides to lend you out."

Qi'ra reached up and gently squeezed Han's hand. "No," she said, "until we get away."


	28. Genderswapping: Leia

Genderswapping – Han and Leia

"Mommy, Daddy, I wanna play pwetend!"

Three-year-old Ben toddled up to his parents, who were sitting on the living room sofa and had been watching him play with his toys on the floor. "Okay," said Han, grinning down at his son. "What kinda pretend do you wanna play?"

"Hmmm," said Ben, puffing out his cheeks as he tapped his chin as if deep in thought. "Hmmm . . . how bout . . ." Suddenly he pointed at Han. ". . . you be Mommy . . ." He pointed at Leia. ". . . an' you be Daddy?"

Leia and Han looked at each other, each trying not to snicker at the idea of pretending to be each other. "All right," said Leia, "let's do that."

"Yay!" exclaimed Ben. "Okay, you Mommy and you Daddy!"

Leia cleared her throat. "Hey, Your Worship," she said in the lowest voice possible, which sounded rather like she had a sore throat. "How's it goin' in the senate? Ya know, I gotta go fix the Falcon, but if you wanna have some fun first, I could be convinced."

Ben burst out giggling.

"Oh, HAN!" Han said in his highest possible voice, which sounded like something was crushing his toes. "You're so immature – don't you know that my work has to come first and I have to work even if it means I miss out on eating and sleeping?"

"Look, Your Worship," said Leia, pointing a finger at her husband, still talking in the "Han voice," "I don't CARE about your work! I think you should just kick back and relax even if it means you fall behind on everything! Now excuse me, I'm gonna go fix the Falcon because it's _always_ broken no matter how much I fix it."

Ben was giggling even harder.

"Oh, you and that _stupid_ ship!" Han shouted in the "Leia voice." "Why don't you just get a new one? You'd think I might appreciate that ship more after it saved our lives so many times, but nope, I still think it's a piece of junk!"

"How DARE you call it a piece of junk!" Leia shouted back in the "Han voice." "That ship is my everything! I love it and cuddle it and kiss it goodnight like it's my baby! In fact, I think I might be dangerously obsessed with it, but I don't care, cause it's MY BEAUTIFUL BABY, you hear?"

Han pouted, folding his arms and sticking his nose in the air. "Oh, you love that ship more than you love me, don't you?" he said in the "Leia voice." "You'd have married that ship if you could!"

"What?" Leia exclaimed in the "Han voice." "How can you say that, baby? You know you mean the galaxy to me, right?"

"Suuuuure," said Han in the "Leia voice," still pouting. "That's why you said 'I know' in the carbon freezer, right?"

Leia reached over and put her hand on Han's shoulder. "Hey hon," she said in the "Han voice," "ya know that was my own special way of sayin' I love you, right?" She wrapped her arms around him. "C'mon baby, you know that's why you love me – cause I got my own style."

Han slowly relaxed in Leia's arms. "All right," he said in the "Leia voice," "you _do_ have your own style. You're not bad looking either."

"True," said Leia in the "Han voice," "and you're beautiful – much better-looking than the Falcon, in fact."

By now Ben was laughing so hard that hiccups were interrupting his giggles.

"So," said Han in the "Leia voice," "I think I might have time for a little kiss before going to work."

"Think you might have time for more than just a _little_ kiss?" said Leia in the "Han voice."

"Maybe," said Han in the "Leia voice. "Let's just see."

With that, they threw their arms around each other and broke into a long, passionate kiss that ended up lasting for several seconds, until Ben poked them in the legs and jolted them out of the kiss.

"Oh," Han said in his normal voice with a sheepish grin. "Sorry buddy, guess we got a little carried away there."

"Did you wike da pwetend?" Ben asked in as sincere a voice as a three-year-old could manage.

"Yes," said Leia, leaning over and kissing her son's head. "We had a lot of fun."

"Okay," said Ben. "Now you pwetend to be _me!"_

Han flashed a large grin at his son. "Okay, son, but who're you gonna be?"

"I be _you!"_ Ben exclaimed. "I be Mommy _and_ Daddy!"

Both Han and Leia chuckled as they slid down to the floor so they could better play with their son. "All right," said Han, unable to stop grinning. "Let's play pretend, Daddy."


	29. Different Clothing Style: Qi'ra

Different Clothing Styles – Han and Qi'ra

If only Qi'ra could see Han now.

Maybe she would gasp at the sight of him in an Imperial cadet uniform and say he was betraying their lifelong dream of freedom, or maybe she would think he looked handsome in it, or maybe she would say that if this was the only way to get off of Corellia, she would support it.

Or maybe she would be wearing an Imperial cadet uniform as well.

Han kept staring at himself in the mirror. When was the last time he'd worn _clean_ clothes, yet alone clothes that were newly pressed and stiff like this uniform? The collar of the gray shirt pinched his neck and the black pants ran up in spots that were rather irritating, but all in all it wasn't a bad outfit. He'd even been ordered to comb his hair for his first class, which he'd _attempted_ , but his hair still stuck up in various spots. Qi'ra used to ruffle his hair and tell him that its unkempt appearance just made him that much cuter, but he didn't think the Imperials would say the same thing. He'd have to try combing again tomorrow morning, before his first class would start.

He turned around to face the bed, having to take a few slow inhales to keep himself from hyperventilating at the thought that this was _his room._ He hadn't had his own room since his dad died – he'd practically forgotten what it was like to sleep alone. Even when his parents were still alive, the walls in their tiny apartment were thin, which meant he could hear them talking when he was in bed.

The bed was so nicely made that he hesitated to sleep in it. How did they even _get_ the covers to tuck around the mattress so neatly? Han hoped he wouldn't be expected to make the bed himself – there was no _possible_ way he'd be able to do that.

Would Qi'ra be able to do it?

For some reason Han couldn't stop himself from imagining her in a uniform similar to his, her bright eyes peeking out from under an Imperial hat, her mouth giving him a cheeky smile. If they were cadets together, both learning how to fly off into the stars, they might could forget that they were technically working for the establishment that had driven Corellia into shit.

Han inhaled, turning back to the mirror and putting on his Imperial cap, his hair still springing out from under it. Damn, he hoped they wouldn't make him _cut_ his hair.

Qi'ra would look really cute in one of these caps. It would complement her shoulder-length auburn hair perfectly, in fact.

He swallowed, his mind's eye conjuring her face as she was dragged away on the other side of the glass. Had Proxima punished her or kicked her out of the White Worms – or worse, turned her over to the authorities – for trying to run away?

Was she dead?

His stomach suddenly lurched and he had to grip the dresser for support. No, no, he had to think positive here. Of _course_ she wasn't dead. This would only take a few months at most and then he'd go back to Corellia and pick her up, then they'd both be free. All he needed was money.

He cocked his head at his reflection, still having trouble believing that he was actually _wearing_ this Imperial getup. Back when they were kids, he and Qi'ra had devised plenty of outrageous plans to get off of Corellia, but joining the Imps was never one of them. In fact, if anyone had told Han that he'd one day be so desperate that he'd end up joining the Imperials, he'd have taken them for being nuts.

Maybe he was selling out his principles – but that would imply that he _had_ principles to sell out. When you were starving and at the mercy of a ruthless gangster, you didn't have room for _principles._ Principles didn't feed you.

He turned slightly from side to side, checking his uniform for wrinkles in case he'd get in trouble for having a wrinkly uniform. The Empire may be rotten, but they also offered an opportunity to get out of the shithole that was Corellia. Hell, maybe the Empire had taken so much of Corellia's money on purpose so the people would be poor enough and desperate enough to join the Imps and then they'd have lots of new recruits. He could imagine them pulling a trick like that, especially since the Empire didn't give a damn about people suffering under their rule so long as those people stayed in line.

And here he was, in line. The trick had worked.

He inhaled again, vowing to himself that this was temporary. If the Empire was going to use him, then he would use them right back.

He'd learned from the best, after all.


	30. Different Clothing Style: Leia

Different Clothing Styles – Han and Leia

Leia hated black.

Black was the color of Darth Vader, the color that enclosed him and ate away at his soul until almost nothing remained. Black was that mask: dark, empty, void of emotion, a permanent barrier between him and the rest of the world.

Black was the darkness of her cell on the Death Star where the hours crept by in empty silence. Even all these years later, she still remembered how the walls seemed to want to close in on her and crush her under them, how she spent her every waking moment in that cell jumping at every sound, wondering if Vader was coming back for further torture.

Torture . . .

Black was also the torture droid that stuck its drugs into her and probed through her mind. In addition to the pain caused by the torture, focusing her entire being on resisting the probe brought on additional pain, which still caused her to shudder when she remembered it.

Black was the voice of space left behind after Alderaan was destroyed. Her father, her mother, her friends, her home, nearly every person and place she had ever known, gone in mere seconds and in their place was only the blackness of space, as if they'd never even existed. She remembered the numbness that built up in her as she stared into that void which only seconds before had contained her home planet. Black was a void – the _absence_ of anything.

Black was the endless darkness that stared down at her on many a sleepless night when Alderaan overtook her thoughts, when she saw her parents glaring at her, blaming her for their deaths, begging to know why she didn't save them. If she had told Tarkin the truth, would he have spared her planet?

She would never know.

Black was the color of Kylo Ren . . .

Black was the color of Kylo Ren . . .

Black was the color of Kylo Ren . . .

How could she even continue that train of thought? The color had swallowed up her son just like it had her father – maybe even _worse_ than her father. Black encased her baby's soul, closing up those little brown eyes away from her, yet as a mother she kept desperately chasing after them, trying to see through the black even as it swallowed him up.

 _Shouldn't_ a mother be able to protect her child from the blackness?

The blackness didn't start with the birth of Kylo Ren. It had been creeping into her child from the very beginning, invading his dreams, giving him powers he couldn't control, consuming him in fear.

She couldn't protect him back then either.

Leia hated black, but now she was wearing it. She wore the same cruel color that had taken her father and her son and encased them away from the galaxy. Her hands twitched, as if tempted to rip up the long, mournful black dress she wore, though of course she wouldn't actually do that.

Black was also the color of death.

It was the color of death, so now she wore it to commemorate death, feeling as tight as if the blackness were consuming her the same way it had her father, her son, her planet. The color of death – the death of someone who just a few days ago had returned to her life and made her _feel_ again.

But then she thought he could rescue their son from the blackness.

She slammed her fists down on her lap as if that would bring him back. Again and again she pounded, her mind crying bring him back, bring him back, _BRING HIM BACK!_ Go back in time, stop him from talking to their son, save him from endless blackness.

"Why?" she found herself whispering out loud, as if the indifferent universe would stop being indifferent just for her and give her an answer.

Of course no answer came. She was just one little soul in an endless universe. People died every day and the universe never cared about any of them. Neither did the Force, for that matter. People lived and died and the Force did nothing. The Force didn't even care when somebody's baby was consumed by its blackness.

She took a deep breath as she smoothed out that horrid black skirt, knowing that sitting here and lamenting wouldn't change anything. She could sit here for as long as she wanted and her son would still be lost and her husband would still be . . . but her eyes were welling up again. Maybe _this_ was why people let themselves be consumed by the blackness – because feeling _hurt_ too much.

With tears blurring her vision, she rose to her feet as if in a trance, seeing Han behind her eyelids with every blink, swallowing as she once again smoothed out that black skirt.

Black was also the color of funerals.


	31. Morning Routine: Qi'ra

Han and Qi'ra – Morning Routine

"HEY KID, IT'S TIME TO GET UP!"

Beckett's shouting combined with his rather incessant knocking jolted Han rather unpleasantly out of a deep sleep. At first he wasn't quite sure where he was – his bed smelled funny, that was for sure, it was as if the sheets had been washed five times.

Oh right, he was in one of the bunks on Lando's ship. Today was the day that they'd swipe the coaxium and get their money. A grin broke into his face as he yawned and stretched his arms over his head. Today was the beginning of freedom.

Though the bed was soft and inviting and his body wanted to sink down into it and sleep for a couple more hours, he forced himself to sit up and pull on the robe Lando had lent him – dark blue trimmed with gold thread. Shit, who wanted a robe with _gold_ thread? That Lando person sure was weird, but his ship – his ship was amazing. One of these days Han would challenge Lando to a rematch and win what was rightfully his – Lando had cheated, he was sure of that.

He made his way to the lounge – still in the pajamas and robe – to find that the entire group was already eating breakfast around the table, also in pajamas and robes, giving the feel of a kids' slumber party, not that Han had ever been to one of those.

"So, the sleepyhead's finally up," Lando said with a smirk. "I was beginning to think we'd have to go through the Kessel Run without you." He leaned back in his seat and sipped his caf, looking way too satisfied with himself.

"Yeah," said Han, "and I'm sure someone like _you_ gets a bright and early start every morning."

Lando just gave a big grin as if they had just shared some in-joke, though Han wasn't quite sure what the joke was. "Help yourself to eggs and pancakes and caf, Han," said Lando, pronouncing Han's name wrong again – Han was wondering if he was doing that on purpose.

"Thanks," said Han. "Looks delicious."

"Oh, it is," said Lando. "L3 is the best chef."

L3 was standing by the kitchen area, looking grumpy as usual. "Yes, he calls me a great chef," she said. "Not that I can actually _eat_ anything, mind you, but he enjoys the food I make."

"Well, it smells good," said Han.

"Then take what you want," said L3. "I'm not going to _serve_ you, if that's what you're thinking."

Han obeyed, filling his plate with food and pouring himself a mug of caf before taking his place at the table next to Qi'ra. Her hair was sticking up in various directions and her brown robe was also trimmed with gold thread. "Good morning," she said, smiling at him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," said Han before nodding in Chewie's direction. "Mornin', Chewie. How bout you? Sleep well?"

[I had to scrunch up to fit in the bunk,] said Chewie.

"Sorry bout that, buddy," said Han. "Tell you what, when I own this ship, I'll be sure to install a Wookiee-sized bunk."

"Whoa, whoa!" Lando quickly intercepted. "Now wait a sec, who said anything about _you_ owning _my_ ship?"

"Why, _you_ did," said Han, taking a bite of eggs. "When you gambled it."

Lando let out a snicker. "Yeah, and last I checked you _lost_ that match."

"Maybe, but I know you cheated," said Han with his mouth full. "One of these days we're gonna have a rematch and _then_ I'll win."

"Over my dead body," declared Lando.

"Hey, hey," said Beckett. "Have you boys forgotten that we need to get the coaxium before there can be any rematches? Why don't we focus on the task at hand before duking it out?"

Qi'ra giggled as she blew on her caf. "Lando, if I were you I'd keep an extra eye on this ship. I've never known Han to give up on anything he wants."

"Yeah," said Han. "She could tell you a bunch of stories about our life on Corellia that you'd never believe."

Chewie snickered. [After seeing what you're capable of, _I_ would believe them.]

Han took a bite of pancake, the syrup dribbling down his chin. "Hey L3, Lando was right about you bein' a good chef."

"I guess I'm supposed to thank you?" replied L3. "Since I spent the whole morning making food that _I_ can't enjoy, I'm supposed to appreciate it when _others_ enjoy the fruits of my labor?"

Lando grinned at Han. "That means thank you," he said.

Meanwhile, Qi'ra reached over and ruffled Han's hair. "I see you never outgrew the bed hair."

"I could say the same about you."

"True," she said with a shrug. "I guess there are some things we never outgrow, no matter how much we may try."

"Well I think bed hair is cute," said Lando. "Not that _I_ ever get it, of course."

That caused everyone to burst into giggles. Han knew he should be nervous about the heist, but instead he was feeling all happy and relaxed. It was like he, Chewie, Qi'ra, Beckett, and even Lando had become this close, comfortable group.

Like a family.


	32. Morning Routine: Leia

Morning Routine – Han and Leia

 _Beep-BEEP! Beep-BEEP! Beep-BEEP!_

Dammit, Han _hated_ Leia's alarm. With a loud groan, he buried himself under the covers, trying to block out the early dawn light from invading the private area under his eyelids. A moment later, he heard Leia groan as she slammed her hand on the chronoalarm.

"I don't wanna get up," she mumbled. "I don't wanna go to work."

Han reached over and gripped her arm, his eyes still closed. "Then don't," he grumbled. "Call in sick and stay here with me."

"Can't," groaned Leia. "Got lots to do . . ."

"C'mon, the galaxy ain't gonna fall apart if you skip one day of work." He inched up and kissed her shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her body. "Let's both stay in bed till Ben wakes up. You shouldn't have to work on a weekend anyway."

For a few moments she didn't move and Han thought he'd convinced her. He felt himself sinking back into sweet sleep . . . but then she pushed his arm off of her. "I'm sorry, Han," she said, pulling back the covers and letting in that annoying early dawn light. "I have to get going."

"But you said you didn't wanna," said Han, opening his eyes just a slit and seeing her reluctantly sitting up.

"Yeah," said Leia, "but sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do."

Han gave an exaggerated frown. "But I'll get _lonely._ "

Leia snickered at him, running her hand through his hair. "Oh come on, you'll be asleep again before I'm out of the shower and I'll get to get dressed to your snores."

Han gripped her hand, still not wanting her to leave. "It gets cold without your body heat," he pleaded.

Leia gave him a tired smile. "Han, you have no idea how much I envy you getting to stay in bed, but I don't get that luxury."

"You would if you called in sick," Han pressed. "What's one day of work?"

"One day?" Leia scoffed, twirling his hair around her finger. "Han, if it were up to you, I'd _never_ go to work."

"Yeah," said Han, pulling gently on her hand. "Then we could both sleep as late as we wanted every morning, wouldn't that be nice?"

"Not if it meant letting the galaxy crumble." Leia leaned over and kissed her husband's forehead. "Han, remember how we got up at the crack of dawn on the morning we blew up the Endor shield generator? Or how we both stayed up all night to free those prisoners on Lothal?"

"This ain't like that," persisted Han. "There's no war goin' on now. Didn't we go through all that so people would feel _safe_ again?"

Leia sighed. "Calling in sick when you're not sick is _dishonest_."

"So is disguising yourself as a bounty hunter to sneak into Jabba's palace and rescue the love of your life."

That got his wife to giggle a little. "Han, Han, Han, what am I going to do with you?" She patted his cheek. "Well what if I got _found out?"_

"Who's gonna tell? Me? Ben? Speakin' of Ben, I bet he'd like to have his Mommy home today."

Leia sighed again. "How about we compromise? I go to work now, but I see if I can come home early? If I can just work a _half_ -day, I could come home after lunch and the three of us could do something fun, maybe go to the zoo or something like that. How does that sound?"

"Sounds nice," said Han, "but I'll still get lonely _now_."

"You'll manage." Leia grinned down at her husband as she patted his cheek again. "Now why don't you take a little nap so you'll be all rested for our fun time this afternoon?"

Han closed his eyes. "Fine," he said with a yawn, sinking his head into the pillow, "but sometime you need to learn how nice it is to sleep in."

He felt her kiss him again before hearing her get out of bed completely. As she got into the shower, he lingered in a dozing, half-asleep state, only vaguely aware of the shower sound somewhere beyond the darkness. He was sinking, sinking, sinking . . .

Then another kiss woke him up.

"Are you still awake?" Leia whispered.

"Sorta . . ." Han mumbled without opening his eyes.

"Well, I'm leaving now."

"Kay."

"You're not angry at me for not calling in sick, are you?"

Han yawned, his eyes still closed and his body still on the edge of sleep. "Nah . . . just lemmie sleep, kay?"

"All right." He felt her kiss him again, but he wasn't awake enough to return the kiss. "I love you, honey."

"Love you too," he muttered.

With that he was asleep, though it was only an hour before Ben would jump onto the bed and his day would begin for real.


	33. Spooning: Qi'ra

Spooning – Han and Qi'ra

"Why do they call it spooning?" Han suddenly asked as he and Qi'ra lay together in his cot.

"What?" Qi'ra asked, bringing Han's hand up to her face and kissing it.

"What we're doin' now," Han said in a drowsy voice. "People call it spoonin', but why?"

"Don't know," said Qi'ra, seemingly more interested in kissing his fingers than discussing a word.

"I mean, it sounds sexual," Han continued, "but instead it's something innocent."

Qi'ra let out a long, content sigh. "Maybe it's because people curve like spoons when they cuddle like this, I don't know. Why don't we not worry about it and just enjoy it." She pressed Han's arms against her body. "Tomorrow's another day of ducking the authorities, after all."

"Yeah," said Han. "Guess it's too much to hope that Proxima will give us a day off tomorrow."

"I think I can safely say that it is."

"Even on your _birthday,_ " Han grumbled.

Qi'ra sighed again, but this time it was an annoyed sigh. "Han, birthdays don't exist here, you know that."

"Well they _should,_ " said Han, kissing Qi'ra's neck. "How am I s'posed to keep track of how old I am if I don't get a birthday?"

"You're sixteen," said Qi'ra with a slight snicker, "and I turn nineteen tomorrow. See, that's not hard."

"Yeah, but I haven't eaten birthday cake since . . . well, since my parents were still alive." He squeezed her closer to him. "Maybe tomorrow we should try to steal some cake for you."

"Maybe," said Qi'ra, "but _this_ is a nice birthday celebration right here."

Han swallowed as he ran his hand up and down her stomach. "When we get off Corellia, we'll have great big birthday celebrations every year. I'll get you all these awesome presents and take you out to eat at an all-you-can-eat restaurant and we'll have cake and I'll get the waiter to sing for you . . ."

Qi'ra gave that cute little snicker. "I think I'd die of embarrassment if the waiter sang to me."

"Fine, no singing, but your birthday will still be amazing."

"I'm sure it will be." Qi'ra squeezed his hand. "So will yours. We'll celebrate in style once we get away."

"Wish I could give you freedom for your birthday," said Han, suddenly rolling over to his back and staring up into the darkness. There were nights when freedom just seemed like a word with no meaning – something he and Qi'ra _talked_ about, but would never actually happen. All around them was the snoring and sleep-breathing of other White Worms who seemed content with their existence under Proxima's will. Why was that? Why didn't _they_ talk about freedom the way he and Qi'ra did?

Maybe the harshness of the galaxy had gotten to them and eliminated all traces of hope. Maybe Proxima had squashed down all their dreams and now they had no ambition to do anything besides survive from day to day.

Damn, what was _that_ like? How could anyone live without dreams?

"Han," Qi'ra said in a drowsy voice, pulling his arm back over her, "can I ask you something silly?"

"Sure," said Han. "I think I'm up for a silly question."

"If we _were_ free – if we had money and a ship and all that and we were far away from Corellia – what would you get me for my birthday?"

Han grinned as he ran his free hand through her hair. "Hmm, how about first a nice pair of earrings – diamonds, maybe? Then how about a big holovid with a gaming system all hooked up and ready to play?"

"That sounds lovely," said Qi'ra, once again grabbing his hand and kissing it. "And we could spend my birthday evening playing games and trying to beat each other's high scores."

"Yeah," said Han, already envisioning the scene in his mind. "I'd include a racing game with the present and we could race each other."

"And crash into each other," Qi'ra added. "We could also play one of those starship battle games and blow up each other's ships."

"Sounds fun," sighed Han, patting her shoulder. "Wish I could get it for you for real. It'd be nice to play games tomorrow instead of go on one of Proxima's jobs."

Qi'ra yawned. "Well . . . maybe we could at least steal some cake. That might be doable."

"I'll steal you the best cake I can find," said Han. "It'll have icing and candies and it'll be so delicious that you'll think you've gotten away from Corellia."

"I can hardly wait," said Qi'ra as she snuggled herself into Han's chest. "Then maybe by the time your birthday comes, we'll be free for real . . ." She drifted off to sleep, still gripping Han's hand.

Han gently kissed her cheek. "Happy Birthday, Qi'ra," he whispered before sinking down into the pillow, hoping she would dream of the amazing birthday she would have when they were free.


	34. Spooning: Leia

Spooning – Han and Leia

"Just wait a minute and he'll kick again."

Han hardly dared to breathe as he pressed on Leia's bulging stomach, waiting. He didn't know how long he and Leia had been lying in their bed, his arms wrapped around her and his hands on her abdomen as the rain poured down outside, but he didn't care. As far as he was concerned, they could stay like this all night.

"C'mon baby," Han whispered. "Why don't you kick for your daddy?"

"Be patient," said Leia, rubbing his hand. "He'll kick when he's good and ready."

Han smiled. Ever since Leia had the sonogram that told them the baby was a boy, he'd seemed more _real_ in Han's mind. Calling the baby _he_ instead of _it_ meant there was a _person_ in Leia's womb, not a mere thing. There was a little boy in there who kicked . . . well, at least he kicked sometimes.

"C'mon," Han repeated. "Your daddy wants you to kick. You're gonna make Daddy sad if you don't kick."

Leia snickered. "He's not going to just do what you tell him," she said. "He kicks when he wants to."

"But he should _listen_ to his daddy." Han pouted. "Doesn't he wanna make his daddy happy?"

That was enough to expand Leia's snicker into a chortle. "He won't listen to you once he's out of the womb, so why should he listen when he's still in it?"

"Hey, how d'you know he ain't gonna listen to Daddy when he's out?"

"For one thing, I know his daddy and he'll probably inherit some of his daddy's tendency to not listen to anyone." She gently pinched his finger. "For another thing, _all_ kids have times when they don't listen to their parents."

"Well he'll listen to _me_ cause I'm gonna be a _fun_ dad," Han declared. "I'll be so much fun that he'll _want_ to listen to me."

"I'm sure you _will_ be a lot of fun," said Leia, "but sometimes he'll still need to be disciplined."

"Well, I'll make that fun too."

He thought he heard Leia give one of her princess sighs. "Discipline isn't _supposed_ to be fun, silly. It's supposed to help kids learn to behave."

"Yeah, but what if Daddy's so much fun that the kid always _wants_ to behave?" He patted her stomach. "Say, kiddo, you're gonna have tons of fun with your daddy, ain't you? Daddy's gonna take you for rides in the Falcon and play ball with you and go fun places with you – it'll be awesome. As for that icky _discipline_ stuff . . . we'll let your mommy handle that."

"What?" Leia exclaimed. "How come _I'm_ the not-fun parent?"

"C'mon, we both know that you're better at the whole rules thing than I am."

"That doesn't mean I can't be fun." With that, Leia looked down at her stomach. "Don't get ideas, baby. Your _mommy's_ going to be lots of fun too. We'll go on lots of fun trips and play games and go on vacations – after all, your _mommy's_ the one who can afford them since she actually has a job."

Han only patted her stomach again. "Yeah, but that means Mommy's at work all the time. Your _daddy_ will be the one who has _time_ to have fun with you."

"But _Mommy's_ the one who helps out the whole galaxy," said Leia. "You can be all _proud_ of your mommy and look up to her. Maybe someday you'll even want to follow in Mommy's footsteps and be a senator too."

"What?" Han scoffed. "Why would you want to be a boring old senator when you could be a pilot like Daddy? When you're old enough, Daddy'll teach you how to fly the Falcon and then you can break Daddy's Kessel Run record!"

"But maybe you don't _want_ to fly the Kessel Run," said Leia. "Maybe you want to help out the galaxy and be part of something bigger than yourself."

" _Or_ maybe you want to just enjoy your life. You shouldn't be all wrapped up in the stuff that's bigger than you that you forget to _live."_

"But you also shouldn't be so wrapped up in your own life that you forget to help others."

This might have gone on all night, but then all of a sudden something slammed against Han's hand from inside Leia's stomach, causing them both to go silent and a large grin to burst onto Han's face.

"He kicked!" Han exclaimed! "He kicked!" He ran his hand up and down Leia's stomach in a happy, rapid fashion. "Daddy's so proud of his baby boy, yes he is, yes he is. You know, I'll bet you kicked cause you agree with your daddy that he's gonna be the fun parent."

"Don't be silly," said Leia. "He kicked because he knows _Mommy's_ gonna be the fun parent."

Han kissed his wife's head. "Or maybe . . . maybe he kicked cause he's tryin' to sleep and he wants his parents to be quiet."

Leia giggled. "Yeah, that's possible."


	35. Doing Something Together: Qi'ra

Doing Something Together – Han and Qi'ra

Winter nights on Corellia meant a lot of fires, even down in the White Worms' hideout where light was in short supply. Han had on a tattered winter coat that he'd swiped from a donation box (hey, since they were going to the poor anyway, he might as well take advantage of that – after all, _he_ was damn poor), but it did little to block out the cold. Still he shivered by the fire, but at least he could stick out his hands and warm _them._

"Hey, mind if I sit?"

Han looked up and grinned at Qi'ra. Her coat was as raggy and tattered as his, but she still managed to wear it with dignity. "Do ya have to ask?" he teased. "A lovely lady could help warm up this night."

She pushed a crate up to the fire and sat next to him, her steamy breath mixing with the smoke from the fire. "I think . . . I think I remember my old home having a fireplace."

Han felt his chest tighten a bit. Qi'ra almost never mentioned her parents, and when she did, it was usually just saying they were dead. What was he supposed to say now? Was he supposed to ask about her old home or wait for her to volunteer further information?

After a few moments of awkward silence, she finally continued, staring down at the fire's glowing coals. "I remember my parents building a fire in the fireplace on nights like this." She almost seemed to be talking to herself, as if she had forgotten that Han was there. "I think I used to look at the coals and think they were jewels – big bright jewels. Maybe I even asked my parents if we could sell them for extra money." She swallowed, a slight smile on her glowing face. "I think I got sad when the fire burned down and the jewels turned into ash."

Han swallowed, looking down at the coals and thinking that yes, they _did_ look kind of like jewels – jewels that sparked and popped. "When my parents were alive, our apartment didn't have a fireplace," he mumbled. "I dunno if I ever saw a fire in person back then."

Qi'ra closed her eyes, giving a deep inhale through her nose as if savoring the thick odor of the smoke. "That smell . . . it makes me think of those nights."

"Really?" asked Han. "The smell makes me pretty dizzy, honestly – and not in a good way."

Qi'ra just sighed contentedly, as if she hadn't even heard his jab. "We'd wrap ourselves up in these big blankets and drink hot chocolate as we watched the fire dance around in the hearth. I felt . . . I felt _safe_ there."

Han didn't know what to say. He'd never thought of fires as _safe_ – just something to get you a little bit warm. Hell, he'd even say fires were _unsafe_ ; they could burn you if you got too close, smother you if you inhaled too much smoke, and they could be a signal to an enemy to where you were. Maybe you needed blankets and hot chocolate in order to feel safe by a fire.

Or maybe you needed _parents._

Han closed his eyes, spreading his hands out in front of the fire, focusing on the heat, and tried to imagine he was his younger self on a sofa between his parents, all of them wrapped up in blankets and drinking hot chocolate in front of the fire. What did hot chocolate taste like, anyway? Had he ever had it? Well, he remembered what chocolate tasted like, so hot chocolate probably tasted pretty similar, only . . . hot. He breathed in, out, in, out, savoring the warmth in his hands and imagining it enveloping him.

He remembered when his dad came home from the starship factory in the winter – how his big coat would be cold to the touch and smell all dusty and smoky. Smoky . . . kind of like the smoke from this fire, come to think of it. Sometimes Han would put on the coat after his dad took it off – it was big on him, of course, but it felt all comfortable like a big blanket.

"Han?" Qi'ra suddenly asked, invading his fantasy.

Han reluctantly opened his eyes back to the reality where his parents were dead and fire wasn't safe, seeing that Qi'ra was spreading out her fingers in front of the fire as if desperately trying to get every possible bit of warmth and recreate the cozy nights from her childhood. "Hmm?" he asked.

"If we ever _do_ get off of Corellia and maybe someday have our own house . . . I'd like it to have a fireplace."

Han wasn't sure if their own house would be feasible when just getting their own ship seemed so far out of reach, but so long as they were dreaming, they might as well dream big. He grinned over at his friend. "I think maybe that can be arranged," he said. "Then we can have our own cozy nights in front of the fire and you can show me what hot chocolate tastes like."

Qi'ra grinned back. "That sounds wonderful."


	36. Doing Something Together: Leia

Doing Something Together – Han and Leia

"Nice to get away from it all, isn't it?" Han asked as he floated on the raft around the pool, lazily sticking his hand in the water and brushing it back and forth.

Leia was relaxing on a lounge chair next to the pool, sipping one of Naboo's special margaritas. "Yeah," she responded, inhaling the chlorine smell that reminded her of going to the pool on Alderaan. "Hopefully the senate won't be _too_ lost without me."

"Honey, we agreed we wouldn't talk about the senate while we're on vacation, remember?"

"I know, I know." Leia took another sip of her margarita, savoring the tangy, fruity taste. "Don't worry, we're away from it all so I won't talk about it all."

"Good." As Han floated by her on the raft, he raised his sunglasses up to his forehead, looking her up and down. "And another plus to gettin' away from it all is that I get to look at you in a bikini."

" _Han!"_

"What?" Han looked at her with round, innocent eyes. "I'm not allowed to tell my wife how good she looks in a bikini?"

Leia shook her head in a good-natured manner. "Well, so long as Chewie's watching Ben for the day, you _might_ be able to. You might even get a _reward_ if you behave."

Han gave his cocky grin as he let his sunglasses fall back over his eyes. "Then I'll make sure to behave, Your Highness, so long as the princess delivers on her promise."

Leia laughed as she leaned back in the lounge chair and closed her eyes, letting the sun's heat engulf her. With the sun on her face and the chlorine smell from the pool, she could almost imagine she was back on Alderaan, back at the royal pool with her parents. Then she found herself biting her lip. Why, even after all these years, even after she was married and had a new family, was she still longing for Alderaan? Shouldn't she be over it by now?

She sighed, knowing that she would never truly be "over it." Taking her family to vacation on Naboo would always make her wish she could take them to vacation on Alderaan; visiting her aunt and her cousins would always make her wish she could visit the Organas. Nothing could change it.

"Hey sweetheart, are you comin' in?"

Leia opened her eyes, seeing her husband still floating around on the raft, but grinning cheekily at her. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, she could imagine the crafty look in his eyes. "I'll get in as soon as _you_ get in," she replied.

"Hey, I _am_ in!" Han shouted back.

"Nope, you're on a raft. That doesn't count – you need to get your whole body in the water."

"But it'll be _cold!"_

Leia snickered, putting her drink in the drink holder. "Awww, is the big tough smuggler afraid of a little cold water?"

"Hey sister, I happen to have spent a night on _Hoth_ , so forgive me if I ain't too fond of cold. Oh, and I've also been _frozen!_ "

"Well compared to all that, a little cold water should be nothing," said Leia. "Come on, shouldn't a princess have someone to test the water for her?"

"What, now I'm the royal water tester?"

"Yes."

"Hon, I may not be a royal, but I know _that_ ain't a thing." He slapped at the water with his hand. "Now c'mon, is the big tough _princess_ afraid of a little cold water? I thought you _loved_ to swim!"

"I do!" called Leia as she rose to her feet. "All right, all right, you win. I'll get in first."

She made her way to the edge of the pool, inhaling that sweet, sweet chlorine smell, watching the sunlight dance on the water, but she still didn't get in.

"Hey, c'mon!" called Han. "What're you waitin' for?"

"You'll see."

" _Is_ the brave princess afraid of a little cold water?"

Leia swayed from side to side, watching Han's raft as it floated closer and closer, waiting for the right moment.

His raft floated up to her.

And she jumped in the water.

Even over the splash her body made, she could still hear her husband sputtering. Yes, the water _was_ cold – she had to restrict her teeth from chattering as she swam up to her husband. "Well, what do you think?" she asked as she gripped the edge of his raft. "Is it cold?"

"Very," Han spat, drops of water drizzling down his face like raindrops.

" _But,_ " Leia added as she took her husband's hand, "now that you're all used to the temperature, I'll bet you'll be willing to join me in the water, won't you?"

Han pulled off his sunglasses so she could see him glare at her. "And what happens if I say no?"

"Nothing," said Leia in her cheekiest voice, "but if you _do_ join me, I might be more inclined to give you that reward I talked about."

With that, Han jumped in the water.


	37. Formal Wear: Qi'ra

Formal Wear – Han and Qi'ra

Han couldn't stop thinking about how Qi'ra looked in that dress. Back on Corellia, he had daydreamed many a time of her in a beautiful dress, but actually seeing it in person was different. In person he could see the smooth texture of the dress and how it curved around her body so perfectly. The black dress had a slit in the skirt that let her leg peek out and show off her high heel shoe. He remembered how back on Corellia, she used to stare at high heel shoes when they snuck into malls as kids. She'd tell him that she wondered what it was like to walk in them and how she thought it must make you feel tall and grownup and able to take on the world.

Well _now_ she certainly looked like she could take on the world.

He knew he should be frightened for his life – they were on their way to negotiate with Dryden Voss, after all (though why in the galaxy hadn't Beckett told them they were stealing the coaxium for Crimson Dawn in the first place?) – but he couldn't stop himself from looking at his old friend. Her auburn hair – once so short that it flapped up and down sometimes when she walked, now smooth and long and curling around her shoulders. Han wanted to run his hand through it, certain it must be soft and silky and oh-so-pleasing to the touch. She also now smelled of flowers that lingered in the air – probably some kind of expensive perfume.

Han suddenly found himself wondering how _he_ smelled. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to smell his own arm in front of Dryden Voss, but he found himself twitching his nose this way and that to see if he smelled any body odor. If he _did_ stink, hopefully the smells of alcohol and Wookiee would drown it out and Qi'ra wouldn't notice.

His chest tightened a little as they walked on and he kept noticing more and more things about Qi'ra. She had earrings on – when they were kids she sometimes talked about getting her ears pierced when they had enough money. Big white stones, maybe they were pearls. He imagined her sitting in the chair to get her ears pierced, trembling a little, but not too much, only flinching ever-so-slightly when the needle or whatever they used went through her ear, then smiling when she was able to put on those pearls and saw how they perfectly complemented her pretty earlobes in the mirror.

No, focus, focus, one wrong move and they could all get killed, but how was he supposed to concentrate when he was at long last with Qi'ra again. He wanted to just take her hand and lead her out of here to freedom. They could just run out right now . . . but then they'd be shot if they tried. Dammit, they'd have to do something about Dryden Voss.

She sipped her drink and Han suddenly realized that his own drink was still in his hand. He gulped the last of it down, feeling only slightly tipsy and actually wishing he were more drunk. If he were more drunk, he might have the courage to just attack Dryden and get Qi'ra out of here. His hand brushed over his holster as he wished they hadn't taken his blaster . . . but maybe he could get Dryden in a chokehold. It might be possible – but then of course that would bring all of Crimson Dawn down on them. He inhaled deeply to calm himself down. The chance would come, he had to keep telling himself that.

Damn, Qi'ra was so beautiful in that dress.

Suddenly Han felt self-conscious about what he himself was wearing. He'd been all ecstatic when Beckett had given him this black outfit with the brown jacket – it was perfectly comfortable and it looked great on him - but seeing Qi'ra dressed like this made him feel out-of-place. No one had said anything about what he was wearing, so he assumed it was okay, but seeing everyone else dressed in much fancier stuff than him made his stomach churn a little. Hopefully Dryden Voss wouldn't kill them on account of a dress code violation.

He _wouldn't_ actually do that, would he?

Damn, Qi'ra was wearing a necklace too. Back on Corellia, he used to tell her than when they had money and were free, he'd buy her a necklace to go around her pretty neck. He used to think that he'd buy her very first necklace.

So much for _that_ idea, but maybe he could still get her a necklace after they paid back Dryden – assuming that Dryden wasn't about to kill him.

Why _wasn't_ he more worried about that? He could be in the last moments of his life right now . . . but it didn't feel like that. Was Qi'ra in a fancy dress _really_ such a big distraction that it made him forget to fear for his life?

Apparently it was.


	38. Formal Wear: Leia

Formal Wear – Han and Leia

"Don't say a word."

Leia had to bite her tongue in order to keep herself from laughing when Han emerged from the refresher. "Don't say a word," he said, but how could he _seriously_ expect her to listen to that?

Han must have figured out what she was doing, since he proceeded to wave a finger at her and say, "I mean it! _Not one word!"_

Leia grinned at him, grinding her teeth together in order to keep herself from shouting, which probably made her grin look incredibly fake, especially since Han was glaring at her.

"You wanna say somethin'?" he asked in a groaning voice.

Leia shifted her eyes. "I thought you just told me not to say anything."

Han took a few deep breaths. "Well, you're gonna say it sooner or later anyway, so might as well just hear it."

He was barely finished speaking when Leia exclaimed in a loud, astonished voice, "You _combed your hair!"_

Han loudly ground his teeth in response, giving Leia time to study how for once in his life, his hair wasn't sticking out in all directions and was actually smoothed down against his scalp. Someone who didn't know him very well might not even recognize him, especially since he was also wearing a fancy brown suit complete with a red tie. He looked about as _un_ -Han as Leia had ever seen him.

"Look," he finally said, "since we're goin' to that fancy-schmancy senate dinner, I thought I should look the part for once."

"Why?" asked Leia. "Most of the time I have to beg you just to dress up. And . . . wait, did you actually use _hair gel?"_

"Yes!" Han admitted, throwing up his hands in confession. "It was a last resort after my hair still stuck up even when I'd been combin' it for like twenty minutes."

Leia pursed her lips as she looked her husband over. The hair gel gave his hair a slick, unnatural look and it shone a bit in the lamplight. Suddenly she felt an urge to stick her hand in his hair and mess it up again, but then she'd get her hand all slicked up and besides, Han probably wouldn't appreciate her destroying his hard work.

"What in the galaxy possessed you to do such a thing?" she asked. "I know it can't _just_ be the dinner."

Han suddenly seemed interested in examining his fingers. "You think I don't know what your senator friends say, don't you?"

"Wait, what?"

"Don't play dumb," said Han, still looking at his fingers. "I know what the other senators say about me. How they think you married beneath you and a low-life like me has no place anywhere near the senate."

Leia swallowed.

"And the thing is, they're right," Han continued, blinking as if trying to keep tears in. "I _am_ a low-life. Just an orphan from Corellia who had to turn to a life of crime just to survive. Hell, I wouldn't have even fought in the Rebellion in the first place if Luke and the old man didn't _happen_ to talk to Chewie in the Mos Eisley Cantina."

"Han . . ."

Han grabbed her shoulders, looking into her eyes and causing her to notice that his eyes were glistening. "Plus there's all the shit the tabloids say about us."

"Han, tabloids _always_ say nasty stuff."

Han gulped, still staring into her eyes as his hand slipped off her shoulders. "Yeah, but what about when they publish a holo of us from some party or other . . . and there I am lookin' like a slob next to you with your perfect outfit and perfect hair . . . and they say you're about to walk out on me cause I _embarrass_ you? What about that?"

"Then you ignore it. Tabloids _want_ to get under your skin."

"People are _readin'_ that stuff, Leia. People are readin' it and if even _one_ person believes it, that's one too many." He swallowed. "I don't want your reputation ruined cause of me."

"Han, you could _never_ ruin my reputation."

"Oh yeah? Then how come I see people on the HoloNet talkin' about how you went downhill once you married that dirty smuggler Han Solo and wonderin' why I ain't in prison for my past crimes?" He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "All the stuff I did in the Rebellion doesn't matter to them – they just think I should be in prison and the only reason I ain't is cause you started sleepin' with me."

As if in a trance, he stumbled away from his wife and slumped down on the couch. "So I thought . . . maybe if I _looked_ a bit better, that would at least help a _little."_

Leia felt her own eyes starting to well up as she sat next to her husband and gently gripped his hand. "Han," she said in the gentlest voice she could muster, "anyone who can't see what an amazing person you are is a moron."

"You _say_ that, but . . ."

Leia cut him off by giving him a long kiss. "You're my scruffy nerfherder, Han, and I love my scruffy nerfherder the way he is." She gently ran her finger across Han's scalp, feeling how stiff the gel had made his hair and making a face. "You're going to have one hell of a time getting this stuff out."

"And why would you _want_ me to get it out?"

"So my scruffy nerfherder can be scruffy again, of course." She kissed him again. "Come on, why don't we skip the dinner and take a bath together instead?"

That was enough to get Han to smile a bit. "You mean it?"

"Of course I do," said Leia. "You'll need a lot of shampoo to get that gel out and return to your old scruffy self, after all."


	39. Dancing: Qi'ra

Dancing – Han and Qi'ra

Han was still underage and Qi'ra didn't have a valid ID, but they were still going to a nightclub tonight. After all, they only asked for IDs at the _front_ door. The kitchen was another story. All they had to do was hide in the alley that led to the kitchen door and wait for it to open, much like how they had snuck into a holofilm theater when they were younger.

Han's heart was racing as he and Qi'ra crouched on opposite sides of the kitchen door. Of course, neither of them had ever been to a nightclub before and Proxima would probably beat them if she found out about this, but that made it even more exciting. Han could hear the pulses of the music coming from inside, which made his heart race even faster.

"Han," Qi'ra whispered, "do you think they'll let us drink in there?"

"Don't know," said Han. "Since we'll already be _in_ , they'll probably assume that we're old enough to drink." Of course, drinks also cost _money_ and he wasn't sure if the little bit they had in their pockets was enough, but maybe they could swipe some drinks.

Come _on,_ when would the door open already? People were always going to the alley to empty the trash, weren't they? Or maybe they had a trash compacter. If they had a trash compacter, he and Qi'ra could be here all night . . . but there was a dumpster right across from the door, which indicated that they took trash out the old-fashioned way. Someone would _have_ to be taking the trash out soon, right?

It seemed like an eternity went by, especially since the music was going thump, thump, thump in that catchy rhythm that made Han ache to dance to it, but finally the door slid open and out came a janitor carrying a trash can. Immediately Han and Qi'ra rushed in before the janitor could notice them – well, _hopefully_ he didn't notice them.

They zipped through the kitchen, paying no attention to their surroundings until they made it to the dance floor and they both had to catch their breaths and observe the place.

It was dark – nearly as dark as Proxima's hideout, but there were colored lights dancing all over the place, sometimes flaring in Han's eyes and causing spots to blink into his vision. In the corner of the room, a Mon Calimarian was shouting out to the dancers as he controlled the music on a large, black music player. The dancers were jumping, shouting, running into each other, making out, but the darkness meant it was difficult to see their faces, as if they were hiding out in the open.

Hiding out in the open – that was definitely an appealing idea.

He grabbed Qi'ra's hand. "C'mon Qi'ra, what are we waiting for?"

"Nothing!" Qi'ra shouted back.

With hands still clasped, they wove their way through the dancers until they reached the center of the dance floor. After taking a deep breath, Han let go of Qi'ra's hand and they both let the music carry them into a dance. The music blared into Han's ears and vibrated under his feet and the lights still flashed in and out of his eyes, but that made everything more dream-like. Dream-like – yeah, that was a good word to describe it. He couldn't see very well with the lights constantly blaring in his eyes and the music was pounding, pounding, pounding in his ears, giving him a bit of a headache, but still he jumped, whirled, punched he air, let his body flow with the music. Maybe he was laughing, too, though it was hard to tell when his hearing and sight were so overwhelmed.

"It's LOUD!"

He thought he heard Qi'ra's voice, but again it was hard to tell with the music ramming in his head. "What?" he asked as he stopped dancing, feeling sweat drip down his face.

"It's LOUD!" Qi'ra repeated, her face turning alternately pink, green, and blue as the spotlights danced on it.

"Yeah, I noticed," said Han.

"What?"

"I said I NOTICED!" Han was beginning to wonder how anyone carried on any conversation in a place like this. Or were nightclubs meant as a place to get away from conversation and simply lose yourself in the dance?

Or were they a place to lose your hearing?

"HAN?" Qi'ra shouted.

"YEAH?"

"HOW LONG DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD STAY HERE?"

"DUNNO!" Han shouted back, wondering if that meant Qi'ra wanted to leave. "I HADN'T REALLY THOUGHT OF THAT."

They resumed dancing, Han once more losing himself in the music, trying to ignore the steady pain that was building up in his ears. No, they weren't going to leave when they'd just gotten here, not after they had gone through so much trouble to get in. A little hearing loss was worth dancing in a dream, wasn't it?

"HEY, WHAT ARE YOU TWO KIDS DOING HERE?"

The shout jolted both Han and Qi'ra out of the dream. There was a large, burly man wearing one of the orange nightclub uniforms – Han guessed he must be a "bouncer."

"LET ME SEE YOUR IDS," he shouted, and Han wasn't sure if he was shouting in order to be heard over the music or to establish his authority over them.

Both the teenagers gulped, knowing they were in for it now.

Sure enough, when they failed to produce IDs, the bouncer was quick to escort them to the exit.

"Well," Qi'ra said with a sigh, "it was nice while it lasted."

"Yeah," said Han. "Even though now my ears are gonna ring all night."


	40. Dancing: Leia

Dancing – Han and Leia

"If you're happy and you know it, CLAP YOUR HANDS! If you're happy and you know it, CLAP YOUR HANDS!"

When Leia first met Han, she would never have been able to imagine him singing that song. If she imagined him singing anything at all, it would have been some drunk warbling at a bar. Of course, Han _did_ do his fair share of drunk warbling at bars, but nowadays his favorite kind of singing was for his two-year-old son. There they were, dancing around the living room while Ben's children's songs played on the music player.

"If you're happy and you know it," the father and son sang together, "then your face will surely show it, if you're happy and you know it, CLAP YOUR HANDS!"

"Then your face will surely show it?" Leia asked as Han and Ben clapped their hands in unison, interrupting the dance, though the song kept playing over the speakers. "I thought it was 'then you really oughta show it.'"

"What makes you say that?" asked Han. "It's 'then your face will surely show it' – everyone knows that."

"No, I remember singing it with my parents – I'm sure it was 'then you really oughta show it.'"

Ben was pulling on Han's hand. "Daddy!" he shouted. "Dance!"

"In a sec, buddy," said Han. "Mommy and I are havin' a grownup discussion." He gave his wife a cheeky grin. "Well _I_ remember singin' it with _my_ parents and it was _definitely_ 'then your face will surely show it.' Sides, that's what the _recording_ says."

"Well the recording is wrong," said Leia. "I KNOW it's 'then you really oughta show it.'"

"Daddy, DANCE!" Ben insisted again, and by now the song was up to shouting hooray.

"Okay, okay," said Han. "Here son, lemmie go start the song over so we can show Mommy what the lyrics are."

Leia rolled her eyes. "Laugh all you want, but I know what I remember."

While Han made his way to the music player, Ben grabbed his mother's hand and yanked playfully at it. "Mommy dance too?"

Leia smiled down at her son. "Of course, I'd love to."

There came the happy woman's voice singing over the speakers again and instantly Han was dancing back to his wife and son, singing along with the voice.

"If you're happy and you know it, CLAP YOUR HANDS!" His voice almost overtook the recording in volume, causing Ben to giggle as the three of them clapped their hands three times in unison. "If you're happy and you know it, CLAP YOUR HANDS!" Now all three of them were singing as loud as they could, resulting in the recording being practically drowned out.

Then came the controversial line, where Han and Ben sang, "Then your face will surely show it," while Leia found herself singing, "Then you really oughta show it." She didn't even really do it to spite Han or prove she was right about the lyric – it just came out of her mouth naturally, as if she was a child again and singing the song with Bail and Breha.

"If you're happy and you know it, STOMP YOUR FEET!"

As their three pairs of feet stomped as loudly as they could, Leia found herself wondering if maybe she _did_ remember the lyric wrong. Once again, she found herself singing, "Then you really oughta show it," when Han and Ben sang, "Then your face will surely show it." She _remembered_ Bail's big voice singing, "Then you really oughta show it," emphasizing the "oughta" because it made her laugh when he put extra stress on that word for some reason. She _remembered_ it.

Didn't she?

"If you're happy and you know it, SHOUT HOORAY!"

Ben shouted hooray at the absolute top of his little lungs, causing Leia to reflexively grin down at him. She most _definitely_ remembered shouting hooray with the Organas, even if she had somehow built a false memory of that one line.

No, it wasn't false, was it?

But if it wasn't a false memory, why was the singer on the recording singing the other line, the one Han claimed _he_ remembered from his own childhood?

And why was she thinking so much about a line from a kids' song anyway?

Maybe because . . . if her mind could create a false memory of a song line, what _other_ false memories could it create?

Once again she sang, "Then you really oughta show it," unable to believe how much she was clinging to the line. This wasn't like her. Usually when she was proven wrong about something, she willingly conceded that she was wrong, so why was she clinging to this insignificant lyric like a child clinging to a toy? She tried to pretend that she didn't know the answer, tried to pretend that she wasn't afraid that some of her cherished memories of Alderaan in fact _never happened_ . . . but to no avail.

"Mommy?" Ben suddenly asked, pulling her out of her musings.

"Hmm?" Leia asked.

Ben looked up at her with his big brown eyes. "Why you no dancing?"

Suddenly Leia realized that "If You're Happy and you Know It" was no longer playing and the recording had moved on to the Hokey Pokey. "I'm sorry, Ben," she said. "I was just thinking about when I was little like you." She smiled down at him. "Mommy used to sing these songs with her parents just like you do now."

"Yeah?" asked Ben.

"Yeah," replied Leia. "Just like this."


	41. Cooking: Qi'ra

Cooking – Han and Qi'ra

"Han, are you _sure_ you know how to do this?"

Han looked up from the fire and gave Qi'ra his cocky grin as he stirred the pot over the fire. "Sure. Don't you worry, we'll have soup in no time."

When Han found the discarded can of soup, still unopened and intact, it had been like finding a treasure. For once they could have _real food_ , not the tasteless, disgusting stuff Proxima fed them. Han had even slipped into a grocery store and swiped some spices that he heard were good in soup. His pockets were bulging with the soup can and little canisters of spices by the time they got back to Proxima's hideout, but he'd managed to stuff them under his cot before delivering his goods for the day. He'd pried the can open with a rather blunt knife (which took a good five minutes, but he finally got it), dumped it in a pot over the fire Qi'ra had built, and he was now stirring in the spices.

"You've never actually _made_ soup before, have you?" Qi'ra asked as she watched him stir first clockwise, then counter-clockwise, as if he were making the spoon dance with the soup.

"Qi'ra, it's _canned soup,_ " said Han. "You don't have to be a gourmet chef to make _canned soup._ Hell, they make canned soup specifically so any old schmuck can grab it off the shelf and make it with no cooking experience whatsoever."

"Maybe so," said Qi'ra, "but I still don't want you wrecking it. Who knows when we might get another chance like this?"

Secretly, Han shared her concern. They might _not_ get another chance like this for a while, which meant _not_ messing it up was crucial. "C'mon, how hard can it be? You just heat up the soup in a pot, that's it."

"Yes," said Qi'ra, "but I think you're supposed to cook it over a _stove,_ not a fire."

"Well, you didn't think Proxima's goons would let me use the stove, did you?" Han raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at her without slowing down his stirring. "Sides, heat is heat. If I've gotta improvise and use a fire instead of a stove, it still warms up the soup."

Qi'ra giggled. "Still, be careful."

"Careful's my middle name."

"You don't _have_ a middle name. Or a last name, for that matter. None of us do."

Han gulped, suddenly taking an interest in staring into the red, frothy liquid that swirled around as he stirred it. Last names were hard to come by in Corellia – a last name meant your family was actually _worth_ something, and lowly starship builders like his parents weren't _worth_ anything.

"Well . . . maybe someday I will," said Han, stirring the soup in a noticeably slower manner. "Maybe someday when we get off this shithole of a planet, we can pick a last name for ourselves."

He looked up and saw that Qi'ra was giving him a small smile – she'd obviously picked up how he'd said _last name_ in the singular when referring to both of them. "Perhaps," was all she said in response.

Han resumed his stirring. By now steam was rising from the pot and the soup was giving off a warm, spicy aroma, making Han's mouth water so much that he had to wipe his mouth with his free hand in order to stop himself from drooling in front of Qi'ra.

Qi'ra sniffed the air, her smile becoming dreamy. "It smells good. Do you think it's almost ready?"

"Maybe," said Han, "but I should probably cook it for a little while longer just to be on the safe side."

"Han, we don't want it to be _boiling_ ," said Qi'ra.

"No, but we do want it to be _cooked_ ," Han replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Han, it's canned soup. It's _already_ cooked."

Han knew she was right, of course, but actually taking the soup off the heat meant _eating_ it, which meant seeing whether or not Han's attempt at cooking had screwed up, and if he screwed up the soup, he also screwed up their dinner – the other White Worm scumrats had already been given _their_ dinner and latecomers didn't get fed. It would be far from the first time he or Qi'ra had gone to bed hungry, of course, but he'd rather it not be because he had messed up a simple can of soup.

"Han," said Qi'ra, "I really do think it's ready, and I'd rather not have my tongue burning off when I taste it."

"All right," Han said nervously. "Let's see if I can cook."

He poured the soup into two bowls and he and Qi'ra settled themselves on crates to eat. The bowl was warm in Han's hand, as if he were holding a piece of the fire. He took a deep breath and blew on his spoonful of soup, watching his breath create little waves in the liquid, delaying when he'd actually have to taste the fruits of his labor.

"Han, it's _delicious!"_

Qi'ra's exclamation undid the knot in his stomach and suddenly gave him courage to taste the soup.

She was right – it _was_ delicious.

He could cook after all.


	42. Cooking: Leia

Cooking – Han and Leia

"Knead, knead, knead the dough," Han instructed, both his hands and Ben's covered with flour, their four hands pushing and pulling the dough in the bowl. "We wanna make delicious cookies, don't we?"

"Yup," said six-year-old Ben, standing on a chair so he could reach the counter.

"Then we've gotta knead it so the cookies will be all light and fluffy when they bake," said Han.

Ben kept pushing and pulling the dough. "This is fun," he said. "It's like playin' with modeling clay."

"Yeah, kinda," said Han, "but you can't eat modeling clay."

"And what are you boys up to?"

Both Han and Ben ceased their kneading to look at Leia standing in the kitchen doorway, Ben's eyes widening in surprise. "Hey hon," said Han in an awkward voice. "Did you just get home?"

"Yes," said Leia. "Are you teaching Ben to cook without me?"

Ben pouted. "We were gonna make cookies to surprise you when you got home," he said in a disappointed voice. "But now they won't be a surprise."

Leia strode up to her husband and son. "Well, even though they're not a surprise, I'm sure they'll still _taste_ good."

"But they won't be a _surprise,_ " Ben repeated, staring mournfully into the dough as if not being a surprise meant the cookies were ruined. "When you got home, we were gonna yell 'surprise!' with a big plate of pretty cookies and you were gonna eat them and say what a good cook I was."

Leia raised an eyebrow at Han. "I see you had the whole thing planned out with a lot of detail."

Han responded with a sheepish grin. "Hey, you know how things can get carried away with a kid. Sides, we weren't expectin' you to come home early."

Leia wrapped her arms around her son, who was still frowning and looked like he was a few moments away from crying. "Sweetheart, I'm going to _love_ the cookies, and they're still a surprise _now_ even if they're not a surprise _later."_

Ben sniffled. "But I wanted to yell 'surprise!' and see you be all surprised when you saw the pretty cookies! Now you can't be surprised at _all!"_

Han felt his stomach churning all of a sudden as he started to wish that he hadn't built up the whole _surprise_ element of the cookies when he'd suggested making them. "Well . . . c'mon, son, we can still have fun finishing the cookies. He stuck his floury hands back in the dough. "Remember, knead, knead, knead?"

Ben only sniffled again and wiped his eyes, brushing flour over them and making little bits of dough stick to his eyelashes and eyebrows. "I don't wanna make cookies anymore," was all he said before jumping off the chair and running into the living room.

His parents quickly followed him, finding him slumped over on the sofa, his face buried in his still-floury hands, crying.

"Ben . . ." Leia started.

"Why'd you come home _early?"_ Ben sobbed.

Leia gulped as she sat next to him and gently wrapped an arm around him. "Usually you _want_ me to come home early."

"Yeah, but today we had _surprise cookies!"_ Ben sputtered, as if Leia was supposed to know in advance that her family had a surprise for her and come home at her regular time to make sure the surprise went according to plan.

Han let out a long sigh as he sat down at Ben's other side. "I'm sorry, son. I shouldn't have gotten you so excited about the surprise, but hey, the cookies will still be delicious."

"I don't wanna make cookies anymore," Ben repeated through his tears. "I wanna throw the dough _away!"_

Han stroked his son's head, making streaks of flour and dough stick to his dark hair. "Hey Ben," he said in the most uplifting voice he could muster, "you've got white hair!" He pointed at Ben's darkened reflection in the holovid screen. "Look, see, your hair's turnin' white!"

Ben only blinked at the screen, so Han decided to try more drastic measures. He proceeded to run his hands through his own hair, making sure the flour and dough stuck to it. "Hey look, _my_ hair's turnin' white too! It's an epidemic!"

Ben still didn't say anything, but Han thought he saw a tiny smile pulling at the edges of his mouth.

"Buddy, I'm sorry," Han continued, "but you know what?"

"What?" Ben asked in a small voice.

"We might not be able to surprise your mother, but we can still do something nice for her."

"What?" Ben and Leia asked together.

Han gave the widest grin he could muster. "Well, your mom's not a very good cook, so we could _teach_ her how to make cookies!"

Finally there was a definite smile on Ben's face. "Mommy, would you like that?"

Leia grinned back. "I'd _love_ that, Ben."

"Then it's settled!" said Han. "And Ben, don't forget to teach her your expert kneading skill!"


	43. In Battle: Qi'ra

In Battle – Han and Qi'ra

When fighting off thugs or the authorities' minions, Han's mind went into automatic mode, hardly having to consciously think about his actions. Years of fights and escapes had shaped up his "fight or flight" reflexes almost to perfection.

Almost.

Thugs would still punch him in the face and it would still rattle his teeth and bruise his cheek. His ribs still sometimes cracked when a thug punched him there and Qi'ra would bandage up his chest as best she could. Qi'ra had gotten quite good at treating his injuries when he got beaten up by thugs or Proxima's goons.

She had also gotten good at fighting them herself.

Their line of work was dangerous and pretty much _required_ strong fight-or-flight instincts in order to survive. For example, take right now, when a hoard of thugs had jumped them on a job. Han punched one, Qi'ra kicked another, another kicked Han, another punched Qi'ra. Even flinching when injured could open up an opportunity for the thugs to further attack, but sometimes flinching couldn't be help, such as when a particularly large thug slammed his fist into Han's stomach. Fight-or-flight instincts gave way to pain instincts, causing him to double over, leaving himself vulnerable, but fortunately Qi'ra had his back and kneed the guy between the legs, causing _his_ pain instinct to take over.

"Nice job," said Han as the thug squealed in pain, both he and Han still hunched over.

"Thanks," said Qi'ra, gently easing him up by his arm. "But if you ask me, I think we should get out of here."

Han looked up and sure enough, there were more thugs rushing towards them. This job had _not_ been worth the effort, but they still had the gems they'd stolen and the thugs still wanted the gems. Han gulped, tempted to stick his hands up and let them have the gems, Proxima be damned, but fight-or-flight meant fight or _flight._

They ran, the thugs in close pursuit.

"Any ideas?" Qi'ra asked, her voice bouncing with her body.

"Besides losin' 'em?" Han asked, his own voice bouncing as well, his throat and chest tight.

"Yes, I was hoping for something more detailed than that," Qi'ra responded.

"Why does it always have to be _me_ who thinks up the plans to get us outta trouble?"

"Because you're the one who usually gets us IN trouble!"

"Hey, this job was _Proxima's_ idea, not mine!"

They ran, ran, ran, up and down streets, their surroundings a blur, the thugs always on the verge of catching up with them and shouting after them. It wasn't exactly easy to think when running for your life, especially when your legs were starting to get sore from running, but fight-or-flight wasn't always enough to survive. Think, think, _THINK,_ what could get them out of this scrape?

"Han, I think I've got an idea," Qi'ra suddenly gasped.

"Lay it on me," Han gasped back.

"Remember our maneuver when the hounds were after us after we stole those drugs?"

"Way ahead of you!"

They dashed into another intersection, but this time instead of running straight together, Han slipped into one alley and Qi'ra slipped down another. Their movements were perfectly synced, causing the thugs to run into each other as they stopped running all of sudden. The confusion gave Han and Qi'ra time to rush through the alleys and meet up at a point further back. Hopefully the thugs wouldn't think to look for them in a spot where they'd already been. Still, they didn't stop running until they were certain that the thugs were far away.

"Well," Qi'ra said between heaves of breath, "there's never a dull moment in our line of work, is there?"

Han had to take several deep breaths before he could answer. Crap, his throat was dry, but at least Proxima had plenty of water. That was basically the only thing Proxima _did_ have plenty of. "Nope, it's never boring when you work for Proxima," he gasped out.

Qi'ra took his hand. "Come on," she said, "we'd better get back before we're found out."

"When you're right, you're right," said Han, squeezing his pocket, feeling his lucky dice and thankful that he hadn't lost them in the skirmish. He wished he could squeeze the gems in his other pocket, but Qi'ra was holding his other hand. Besides, if he squeezed the gems he might start thinking about running off with them. After many, many jobs, he would think about running off with the loot, but he always knew it was too risky. If Proxima's goons didn't catch him, the authorities would, then it would be back to the streets if he was lucky, prison if he wasn't.

Still, as he fiddled with the lucky dice, he promised himself yet again that one day, he and Qi'ra _would_ find their way off Corellia.

One day.


	44. In Battle: Leia

In Battle – Han and Leia

Back-to-back with a smuggler.

Leia had never thought she would be in this situation. Oh sure, Imperial ambushes on shipping runs were common and so was a lead turning out to be false, but she was back-to-back with a _smuggler._

Not just any smuggler, either – _Han Solo._

She ground her teeth as she shot at the Imperials and stormtroopers, hearing Han shooting behind her, feeling his back against hers. Their blasters shot out almost in rhythm with each other and their movements were almost synchronized. She stepped forward and he stepped backwards, she moved right and he moved left, meaning that they remained back-to-back like they were partners.

 _Partners?_ No, no, that was stupid. They were just two people who were caught in a situation, nothing more.

"Hey Princess," Han grunted between shots, "any chance of us gettin' outta this situation any time soon?"

Leia shot a stormtrooper and he fell, but still another came. Sometimes it seemed like the Empire had an endless supply of stormtroopers and other soldiers that were always appearing to replace their fallen comrades. The Empire considered their people _replaceable_ – in fact, she supposed that summed up their entire philosophy when it came to their respect for life and how much value they put on individuals.

"Hey, Your Worship, did you hear me?"

"I heard you," Leia grunted back. "It's hard _not_ to hear you, even when we're in a battle!"

"So what's the _plan_ , Your Worship? Or do we not have one?"

"We _will_ have one . . . soon."

"So we _don't_ have one."

"Hey, I'm not the _only_ one who can come up with plans, you know!"

Han grumbled something inaudible as they kept shooting at the stormtroopers, then he raised his voice. "Well we can't keep _this_ up forever!"

Leia hated it when Han was right, but she wasn't sure how to get out of this situation if the stormtroopers kept coming. Of course, she wasn't about to tell Han that. Come on, there had to be a way out that didn't involve them getting captured. She glanced at the stormtroopers' boots – they were standing with their legs apart, so far apart that someone could fit between them, and their boots were also browning up from the mud.

"Slide," she suddenly muttered.

"What?" Han asked.

"SLIDE!" she shouted. Before the stormtroopers had time to react, she and Han both slid down to the ground, letting the mud speed up their fall, and they tumbled between the troopers' legs. Of course, once they scrambled to their feet, their clothes covered in mud, the stormtroopers started shooting at them again, but now they were outside the circle of troopers and free to get away. They ran towards the Falcon, their bodies twisted so they could run while still shooting, though their feet still slid some in the mud, which meant they couldn't run as fast as they wanted to.

Blasterbolts were flying around them in every direction, but Leia didn't fear getting shot for some reason. Usually when she was in battle, there was at least a bit of tightening in her nerves that one of the blasterbolts could get her (not that she would ever show that, of course), but not right now. Maybe it was because the Falcon was in sight . . . or maybe it was because Han was at her side. No, no, it wouldn't be _that_ , would it?

Finally they reached the Falcon and without a word from either of them, the ramp was up and they ran to the cockpit and leaped into their seats. Chewie, who had been watching the Falcon while they were gone, roared that they needed to get out of here and just like that, they took off, leaving the Imperial ambush behind.

It wasn't until they were safely in hyperspace when Han finally turned around to speak to Leia, letting her see how the mud had stained his shirt and gotten on his face and in his hair. She tried not to think that he looked cute that way. "Well, Your Worship, I gotta admit that was a good idea."

"Thank you," said Leia, feeling the mud hardening on her clothes.

"Still," said Han, that cheeky, cocky grin growing on his face, "now we both need a shower and I've only got _one_ shower stall."

Leia glared at him, grinding her teeth and resisting the urge to slap him in the face. "Then I think _I_ should shower first since _I'm_ the one who got us out of that mess."

"True," said Han, "but you're _also_ the reason why we're all muddy in the first place."

[Showering together isn't a big deal,] Chewie said. [Han and I did it once when we were in a similar situation.]

Though Han had been giving her lessons, Leia still didn't understand everything in Shyriiwook, but she understood enough to know what he was saying now. Now _she_ was the one with the cheeky grin and Han's face was reddening between the mud splotches. "Really?" asked Leia. "Do tell."

Han ground his teeth. "Fine, fine, you can go shower first if you don't ask me about _that_ time."


	45. Arguing: Qi'ra

Arguing – Han and Qi'ra

"Han, you IDIOT!"

"Qi'ra, c'mon, it wasn't my fault!"

"Yes it was, it's ALWAYS your fault – you don't know how to follow _simple directions!"_

They'd lost the loot and gotten beaten for it. Beaten and locked in the sleeping chamber without food for a day. It sure wasn't the first time this had happened, but _this_ time, Qi'ra was for some reason convinced that it was Han's fault. Why? Because it had been Han's idea to take that shortcut back to Proxima's lair? How was he supposed to know the thugs had reinforcements out to jump them? Was he supposed to read their minds?

She was sitting on her cot, her knees up to her chest, her arms hugging her legs, as if the beating had traumatized her, which Han didn't get. They'd both been beaten enough times to . . . well, not to be _used_ to it, per se, but at least to not be traumatized by it.

"Qi'ra," Han said in a gentle voice, limping his way to her cot, squelching down the pain in his feet, chest, and head, "what's wrong? I mean, besides what just happened to us and how we ain't gonna get to eat for a whole day?"

Qi'ra took a deep breath. "Why you?"

"What?" Han tried to wrap his arm around her, but she flinched away. "What do you mean, 'why me'?"

"Why did my only friend here have to be one most prone to trouble?" She looked at him with a face cracked with dried blood. "Other scumrats actually obey their orders and don't enjoy challenging Proxima and getting themselves beaten up for it."

"What, you think I _enjoy_ getting beaten up?"

"I don't know," said Qi'ra. "Sometimes I wonder if you're a masochist, to be honest. It's easy enough to anger Proxima _without_ actively challenging her." She swallowed, as if trying to keep herself from crying. "Why are _you_ my only friend here? If it were someone else, this wouldn't happen so much to me."

"Hey, I didn't know the thugs were . . ."

"You think this happened just because of the _thugs?"_ Qi'ra snapped. "If it were _just_ us losing the loot, we probably would have just been beaten and nothing more, but we're getting _doubly_ punished because you talked back to her."

Han sighed. "What was I _s'posed_ to do? She beat the crap outta you for somethin' that wasn't your fault!"

Qi'ra blinked at him. "Why don't you know when to keep your mouth _shut?_ "

Han sat on the cot next to her, letting out a groan as the action aggravated several of his injuries. "If I shut my mouth, when do I open it again? Do I just _keep_ it shut and become like the scumrats who've had their will beaten outta them?"

"What good is keeping your _will_ if you die of starvation or get beaten to death?" Qi'ra glared at him. "Han, one of these days you'll go _too far_ and Proxima will consider you no great loss."

"Then I guess we'll just have to get outta here before that happens."

"And if we _can't_ get out of here?"

Han glanced down at his knees, bruised beneath the rips in his pants. "Qi'ra, you've seen what happens to some of the scumrats – the ones who barely talk and just follow all their orders without question. You look into their eyes and it's like lookin' into a pit." He looked back up at Qi'ra. "If gettin' beaten and starved is the price I gotta pay for _not_ becomin' like that, then I'll take it. If I'm in pain, at least I'm _feelin'._ "

Qi'ra didn't answer for several moments. She blinked at him, her eyes glistening in the dim light. "And what if you cause others to suffer with you?"

The spots where Proxima's goons had punched his chest suddenly throbbed with pain. "Qi'ra . . . I didn't mean to get you in trouble too."

"But you _did!"_

Han's head was spinning – maybe from the beating or maybe from guilt. "Yeah, I did. I'm a screwup and I don't know when to keep my mouth shut and I drag others into the pit with me." He gripped his head. "Mind if I lie down?"

"Lie down on your _own_ cot," spat Qi'ra.

"Fine," said Han, wobbling as he rose to his feet and collapsed on his own cot. Part of him wanted to just go to sleep and sleep through the entire next day when he wouldn't be fed, but twinges of guilt prevented him from doing so. "Qi'ra . . ." he started, though he didn't know where he was going with that. Was he going to apologize for talking back to Proxima? No, that would mean apologizing for standing up for their rights, even though he knew that as scumrats, they didn't _have_ any rights.

He pulled the blanket over himself, too tired and in too much pain to bother undressing, just wanting to sleep and hoping that when he woke up Qi'ra would be feeling better. "Night, Qi'ra," he mumbled.

Qi'ra didn't answer.


	46. Arguing: Leia

Arguing – Han and Leia

"GET IN HERE, LASERBRAIN!"

Han headed for the living room, gritting his teeth. "Laserbrain" meant he was in trouble. "Nerfherder" or "Flyboy" usually meant he'd only committed minor offenses, but "Laserbrain" meant he was in _deep_ shit. What had he done? He'd had a pretty normal day with their baby son and he didn't _think_ he'd left the toilet seat up – though he wasn't certain that he hadn't. Maybe he should head to the refresher to check, but Leia might see that as him admitting his guilt.

When he reached the living room, he found his wife standing in the corner, her arms folded, and Ben playing on his baby mat on the floor. "What's goin' on, sweetheart?" he asked, grinning at her and hoping he could make her melt with the Han Solo charm.

Unfortunately, she seemed to be in one of those moods where the Han Solo charm didn't work. She pointed down at Ben with an angry finger. "Han, what do you see down there?"

Han looked down at the baby, who was sitting contently on his playmat, wearing a green t-shirt and his diaper, lifting the different flaps in the mat to see the animals hiding under them. "I see our son playing." He looked back up at her, giving her the grin again, though it was probably more sheepish than charming. "What's wrong? Ben seems pretty happy."

Leia groaned, as if there was some obvious problem that Han wasn't seeing. "You really don't use your eyes at all, do you?"

"My eyes are seein' my beautiful princess," said Han. "And she's cute when she's angry."

Now Leia was grinding her teeth, her eyes flaring at him. "Did you look at Ben's _diaper?"_

"Whaddaya mean? I just changed it. Surely the kid didn't dirty it up again so soon."

Leia groaned again, kneading her fingers into her forehead. "His _diaper is on backwards,_ idiot!"

Han glanced back down at the baby and sure enough, the cartoon animals that decorated the front of the diaper were now decorating Ben's butt, showing themselves off as he leaned forward. "Oh, is that all?"

"What do you mean 'is that all'?" Leia exclaimed.

"Just what I said. Why're you actin' like it's the end of the world if his diaper's on backwards?"

Leia ground her teeth at him. "Han, they make diapers go on a certain way for a _reason._ He'll be all uncomfortable if you don't put his diaper on right."

Han cocked his head as he looked back down at his son, who kept lifting the flaps and pushing them back down, then lifting them again, as if he always remained surprised at which animals were under which flaps. "I dunno," said Han, "the kid seems pretty content to me."

"Of course _you'd_ say that," said Leia.

"And what's _that_ s'posed to mean? I'm with him while you're at work, ya know! In fact, I dare say I know him better than you do!"

Leia glared lightsabers at him. "I'm his _mother!_ He was _inside me_ for nine months!"

"Well he ain't in you anymore."

Leia fumed as she scooped Ben up into her arms. "There there, it's all right, Mommy will put your diaper on right so you'll be nice and comfortable." She kissed Ben's cheek as he made a noise of protest, as if he didn't want to be taken away from the flaps.

"Hey c'mon," said Han. "He was in the middle of playin'!"

Leia paid him no heed as she carried Ben to his room, leaving Han alone with the playmat. Why did a backwards diaper get under her skin so badly, anyway? Maybe something was going on at work that was stressing her out and she was taking it out on him, or maybe the Force told her that Ben was more uncomfortable than he let on. Sometimes it was hard to tell things with her.

When Leia emerged with Ben in her arms – his diaper on correctly but his mouth pursed in a little pout – she still ignored her husband, instead talking to Ben in that little sing-song voice she used with him. "Yes, you're much more comfortable now, aren't you? Yes you are. Now you can play without the diaper running up your little bottom."

"Running up your little bottom?" Han echoed as Leia placed the baby back on the playmat. "Ain't that a little vulgar for him to be hearin'?"

Leia snorted. "Like _you're_ one to talk about being _vulgar."_

"Okay, I walked into that one." Han eased himself down to the floor, sitting on the mat next to Ben, who had already taken an interest in lifting the flaps again. "Hey buddy," he said in his own sing-song voice, "you got rudely interrupted, didn't you? Yes you did, you did. You didn't care that the diaper was runnin' up your little bottom, as your mommy puts it, did you? No, you wanted to play with your mat."

Leia groaned, but Han took no notice.


	47. Making Up: Qi'ra

Making Up – Han and Qi'ra

Han woke up to soreness in every part of his body and a sharp growl in his stomach, which instantly reminded him of what happened last night. He would be locked up all day with no food, he'd been beaten up last night, and Qi'ra was angry at him. He wasn't sure which of those three things was the worst.

Maybe he should just sleep all day. There wasn't much else to do when he'd be locked up with no food, anyway. Conserving energy would probably be the best idea, though his bladder was telling him that he'd have to take care of it before going back to sleep. At least the sleeping area had a tiny refresher attached to it, so they'd at least have water.

He grunted as he forced himself to sit up, which shot further pain through his body. Dammit, if it weren't for the whole not-being-fed thing, he'd actually be grateful to have an excuse to do nothing today. He looked around, though it irritated his neck to do so, and saw that all the other cots were empty except for Qi'ra's, which held a person-shaped lump under the blankets. Was she asleep? He couldn't tell. After last night, it was probably best to let her make the first move, so he slowly pushed himself out of bed and stumbled over to the refresher.

When he returned, he found Qi'ra's head peeking out from under her blankets, blinking slowly as if barely awake. He swallowed as he made his way back to his bed, his stomach tightening up, but she still didn't say anything as he climbed back into bed. For several minutes they simply stared at each other, blinking, lying still in the silence.

Finally, Qi'ra broke the silence. "Han . . . I'm sorry about last night."

Was she apologizing for what she said last night, or was she simply sorry that last night happened? "Well . . . I'm sorry too. I didn't mean for things to get all outta hand. I just . . . wish I could give Proxima what she deserves."

"She took us in," said Qi'ra.

"So she could _use_ us. Yeah, she gives us food and a place to sleep and protection from the authorities, but that's only so long as we're _useful_ to her. If we don't follow her orders, well, she does _this_ to us."

His stomach growled again, as if already protesting the punishment. It would be a damn long day if he couldn't fall asleep.

"I know, I know," said Qi'ra, "but when the alternative is starvation or prison, it looks like an all right arrangement." She rolled over to her back, staring at the ceiling. "I shouldn't have yelled at you last night. It's just . . . I've been hungry, Han. You've been hungry too."

"Yeah," said Han. "We're gonna be hungry all day today."

"Better than being hungry all the time," said Qi'ra. She rolled back to face him. "Han, sometimes I envy your . . . your _spark._ "

"My spark?"

Qi'ra's eyes were shining in the dim light. "Yes. You don't worry so much about the consequences of your actions – you just _do_ things. Sometimes I wish I could just _do_ things and let the consequences be damned, but then the consequences come anyway. Like right now, we'll have to endure a day without food as _consequence_ for yesterday." She sighed, flinching in pain from yesterday's beating. "You can't always ignore consequences, Han."

"I _don't_ ignore consequences," argued Han. "I'm goin' through the same _consequence_ as you right now."

Qi'ra sank her head down into her pillow. "Maybe someday you'll understand."

"Understand what?"

Qi'ra didn't answer. Han waited for what must have been several minutes, but it eventually became clear that she had no intention of answering. "Fine," he said, sinking down into the pillow and closing his eyes. "I dunno about you, but I'm gonna sleep through as much of this foodless day as I can."

"Han?"

"Yeah?"

"Could we maybe sleep together?"

Han opened his eyes, scrunching his mouth at her. "Normally I'd jump at that idea, but given our circumstances we should probably conserve as much energy as possible."

Finally Qi'ra smiled, shaking her head in a good-humored manner. " _Han_ , you know what I meant. Could we just _sleep_ together? It would be a less-lonely way to get through our day of hunger."

Han nodded eagerly. "Sure. We'll conserve energy together."

With that, Qi'ra struggled out of her cot, flinching in pain with every movement, and made her way to Han's cot. Once she was settled in, Han wrapped his arms around her, careful not to disturb any spots still tender from the beating.

"This is kinda nice," Han admitted. "Well, except for the no-food part."

"Well, it's not the first time we've gone a day without food," said Qi'ra, closing her eyes. "And at least we're together."

Han yawned, letting his eyes close and his body sink into sleep. "Yeah," he mumbled, "we're together."


	48. Making Up: Leia

Making Up – Han and Leia

Ben had fallen asleep on his playmat, the afternoon sun pouring over his little body. Han lay next to him on the mat, patting his back and smiling at how cute he was when he slept. It would be such a peaceful, relaxing time, but Han also wondered where Leia was. She had left the two of them alone, saying she had to get some work done, but was she still angry about how Han had accidentally put Ben's diaper on backwards? Why had a silly mistake like that gotten her so riled up in the first place?

"Sometimes your mommy's hard to figure out, Ben," he whispered. "But I love her, even if she drives me crazy sometimes."

Ben was giving tiny, adorable snores.

"She should watch you sleep more often," Han continued. "It's calming to watch a baby sleep – maybe she'd be less stressed out." He ran his hand up and down Ben's back. "What're you dreamin' about? Are you dreamin' about your mommy and daddy? I hope so."

Suddenly there was the sound of a throat being cleared. Han looked up and there was Leia standing in the doorway, awkwardly shifting her weight from side to side.

"Hey sweetheart," said Han. "Wanna come join us?"

Leia took a deep breath. "Han . . . I'm sorry I got so upset about Ben's diaper." She tiptoed up to the mat and cautiously sat down on Ben's other side, sandwiching him between his parents.

"Well to be honest," said Han, "I've been kinda wonderin' why that got you so riled up."

Leia sighed, running her finger through Ben's hair. "I don't know, maybe it's the stress at work. It always seems like once one dispute gets resolved, another comes up, then once _that_ one gets resolved, the _first_ one comes back with further problems while at the same time a _third_ dispute appears out of nowhere and in comes a _fourth_ dispute that resulted from the _second_ dispute getting resolved . . . it's a mess!"

Han preferred to stay out of politics when he could help it, but he couldn't always help it with a senator wife. "Well," he said carefully, "you don't have to save the galaxy all by yourself."

"I know," said Leia, "but if I don't, who will?"

"Well, there's Luke. He's gonna build a new Jedi Order to protect the galaxy."

Leia glanced down at Ben, making Han gulp. If Luke built a new Jedi Order, would he try to pressure Ben to be in it? Han suddenly wished he hadn't brought it up – after all, he was trying to make his wife feel _better,_ not worse.

"Sometimes I wish we could just fly away," Leia said in a low voice, curling a strand of Ben's dark hair around her finger. "You, me, and Ben, fly away to some distant planet, away from all the petty fighting."

"Well, we could go on vacation. I bet your cousins would love to see how Ben's growin'."

Leia gave a small smile, the sunlight highlighting her hair and showing the little strands that strayed out of her braids. "That sounds nice, but then we'd have to come _back._ "

"You don't _have_ to be in the senate, ya know," said Han. "You could resign."

Leia leaned over and kissed her husband's forehead. "Then some corrupt politician could take my place. Han, I've thought about resigning, I have. You have no idea how much I envy you getting to raise Ben – and maybe someday the galaxy will be in a stable enough situation where I'll feel comfortable resigning – but right now the galaxy needs people who care."

"People who care," repeated Han. "Well that's certainly you." He gave her a cheeky grin. "After all, you care so much about a diaper bein' on backwards."

That actually made Leia laugh. "Yeah, that's true." She leaned over to kiss her son's little head. "Yes Ben, Mommy cares about you being clean and comfortable cause she loves you so much."

Han noticed that Ben's eyes were starting to open. "Hey, look who's awake," he said, stroking the baby's cheek. "Did you have a nice nap, little guy? Did ya? Huh? I bet you'd like to play some more now, wouldn't you?"

Ben yawned, blinking slowly, as if he were deciding whether or not he wanted to be awake.

Leia smiled at her son. "Hello Ben," she said in a tender voice. "Your mommy and daddy are done arguing now. In fact, your mommy and daddy might be taking you on vacation soon, would you like that?"

Ben cooed, smiling back at his mother.

"I'd say that's a yes," said Han, tickling his son's belly and making him giggle. "Yes, you can't wait to see your cousins and go to the beach, can you?"

Leia kissed her son and then her husband. "Nope, I don't think he can."


	49. Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes: Qi'ra

Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes – Han and Qi'ra

Han's heart thumped as he gazed into those brown eyes he loved so much. Thinking about them flying off together made her smile, she said. He wanted to just throw his arms around her, but he restrained himself from doing so.

Chewie needed help.

Han didn't know what Beckett planned to do to Chewie once he'd gotten away with the coaxium, but he wasn't going to wait to find out, though his stomach was still lurching at Beckett's betrayal. Though he had figured out that Beckett was going to rat him out, he'd still _hoped_ that he wouldn't. He'd _hoped_ that Beckett would agree that they should help Enfys Nest and her cause, but no, Beckett was a coward.

Qi'ra wasn't, though.

The turbolift doors closed, leaving Qi'ra's face imprinted behind his eyelids and his heart jumping. It was almost time – for real. After years of false starts and time away from each other, this was the _real_ beginning of freedom. He was free of Dryden Voss and so was she.

 _"_ _I'm right behind you,"_ she said.

Rescue Chewie and then they would take off to wherever they wanted to go.

 _"_ _I'm right behind you."_

He made her smile and she made him smile. In fact, he was smiling right now despite what lay ahead of him. Saving Chewie felt like a forgone conclusion – something that had already happened instead of something still in the future and thus uncertain.

 _"_ _I'm right behind you."_

He would save Chewie, she would swipe the jewels, and the three of them would be off into the stars to live their lives.

He tried not to think about what would happen to Beckett.

His fingers brushed over his blaster and he gulped. If he tried to save Chewie, Beckett would try to kill them both. Not out of malice or because he'd always been plotting their deaths – simply because they were in the way. Yes, Han thought, that was Beckett. He didn't plot murder; he just got rid of what was in his way.

Expect everyone to betray you, Beckett said, warning Han that if situations turned drastic, he would betray the one he'd treated as a surrogate son.

But could Han do the same? Could he get rid of what was in _his_ way?

No, no, don't think about it yet. Maybe it wouldn't even come to that.

Beckett was wrong about people anyway. Not everyone would betray Han.

 _Qi'ra_ hadn't betrayed Han.

All those warnings about how they couldn't have a life together, all her insisting that he didn't understand everything – it was just because of Dryden's hold on her. When her moment of decision came, she had chosen Han over Dryden.

 _"_ _I'm right behind you."_

His heart kept thumping. Thump, thump, thump, rapping against his ribs as if it were trying to escape his chest and run back to Qi'ra. He took several deep breaths, but that did little to calm himself down. Qi'ra said he made her smile, so was she smiling now as she swiped the jewels? Maybe he should wait for her when he got to the bottom – no, there wasn't enough time for that when Chewie needed help. Still, her smile pressed itself into his mind and excited his heart. Thump, thump, thump.

 _"_ _I'm right behind you."_

He put his hand on his chest, feeling his heart jumping, still trying not to think of what might have to be done to Beckett, still hoping that perhaps it could be avoided.

But he'd seen what kind of person Beckett was, how Beckett had let the galaxy eat at his soul until he couldn't believe in anything or anyone.

 _"_ _I'm right behind you."_

How lonely must it be to not be able to trust anyone to be right behind you?

Maybe Han would actually be doing Beckett a favor – Beckett sure didn't seem to like life much.

Though he still hoped that there would be a way to avoid it.

No, don't be like Beckett, believe that there _will_ be away to avoid it. He tried to tell himself that, but his inner voice wasn't very convincing.

His fingers brushed his blaster again. What was it like to kill someone you looked up to like a father? He dreaded finding out. Almost unconsciously, his hand brushed past the blaster and into his pocket gripping the lucky dice Qi'ra had given back to him.

 _"_ _I'm right behind you."_

The turbolift stopped and the doors opened. Han stepped out onto the beach, his hand moving again from his pocket to his blaster, preparing to do whatever had to be done as his chest tightened up.

 _"_ _I'm right behind you."_

He could do this . . . he could face this . . . he could. The wind whipped through his hair as he spotted Beckett and Chewie in the distance. This was it, the beginning of freedom.

Qi'ra would be right behind him.


	50. Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes: Leia

Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes – Han and Leia

"Mmm, you know what, let's not go back to the park and just stay here."

Leia gave a whispering laugh. "It's tempting, but I think Ben's expecting to go back to the park when he wakes up."

Ben had, of course, been resistant to the idea of leaving the theme park and going back to the hotel for an afternoon nap, but his grouchiness had only succeeded in further convincing his parents that he needed a break from the excitement. And sure enough, the five-year-old had fallen asleep as soon as he and his parents climbed into their king-size hotel bed. Now Han and Leia were enjoying the quiet as their son slept between them.

Han let out a long, content sigh, gazing into his wife's dark brown eyes. "Can you believe our big boy rode his first roller coaster today?"

"Nope," said Leia, giving her son's head the lightest of kisses so as not to wake him up. "He's growing up."

 _Growing up._ Those words had a bittersweet flavor in Han's mind – though he supposed they were bittersweet to any parent. The sweet little boy who cheered and giggled after conquering his fear of roller coasters and gave an adorable dimpled grin with ice cream on his nose would one day be . . . what? An adult – but an adult could be anything. Would his adult self even resemble his child self? Would Han have to get to know his boy all over again?

Would Ben someday _resent_ his father?

Dammit, why was Han thinking these things? Thinking too much about the future took attention away from the _now_. The _now_ when he and his family were on vacation and they were enjoying a peaceful afternoon before going back to the park. The _now_ when Ben was still small and innocent and adorable and didn't flinch away from his father's touch.

He listened to his son's even breath, in, out, in, out, in, out, starting to feel sleepy himself. "Maybe we should take a nap too," he murmured. "You know, so we've got energy for later."

Leia yawned. "Way ahead of you," she murmured back, giving a drowsy smile as she closed her eyes.

Han closed his own eyes, letting his son's little breathing carry him down, down, down into the softness of the clean, sweet-smelling pillow . . .

"Dad?"

Han's eyes opened, his mind hazy, unsure where he was. The voice that had called him was low, deep, sad-sounding, but he didn't recognize it. He blinked slowly, realizing that someone was glaring down at him.

A man, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties, his face enveloped in a mane of black hair, his skin pale, dark circles under his deep brown eyes. He was glaring down at Han as if expecting something.

"Why?" he choked out in that deep voice. "Why did you let me down?"

Han kept blinking at the man. "What are you talkin' about? Who are you?"

The man growled at him, a fleck of spit landing on Han's cheek. "You let me down, Dad. Why?"

Suddenly Han's eyes widened to the point of pain. _"Ben?"_

"So you finally recognize me."

"But . . . wait, Ben's _five."_ Han felt his voice hesitating as he spoke. _Was_ Ben five? He thought that was what he remembered, but why wasn't he sure?

"You _want_ me to be five," the adult Ben said, sounding on the verge of crying. "You want me to _never_ grow up so you'll always have something little and cute to cuddle."

"That's not true," Han said, though again he felt hesitation in his voice. "Ben, I'll _always_ love you no matter how old you get."

"Liar." Now there were tears in the adult Ben's eyes. "You let me down, Dad. You _let me down!"_

"How? What did I do?"

The adult Ben growled again. "You can't understand . . . it's _impossible_ for you to understand . . ."

"I might if you tell me what's goin' on."

The adult Ben turned away, saying nothing.

"Please, son, tell me. You're my boy – you're _always_ my boy – _please tell me!"_

"Daddy? Daddy, wake up! It's time to go back to the park!"

It wasn't the adult Ben who said that – instead it was a smaller, happier, more familiar voice. Han's eyes snapped open and there was his five-year-old son staring him in the face, grinning that familiar dimpled grin. "C'mon Daddy," he said. "Naptime's over and I wanna go on the water ride!"

Han blinked up at his son for a few moments, his mind having to sort out reality from the dream.

"Daddy?" Ben repeated. "You okay?"

Finally Han relaxed and smiled up at his son. "Yeah son, I was just havin' a strange dream."

"Oh," said Ben. "Can we go back to the park now? I wanna go on the water ride!"

Han sat up and gathered his son into his arms. "Sure," he said. "Say Ben, you know I love you no matter how old you get, right?"

Ben shrugged. "Yeah, course I do."

"Good."


	51. Getting Married: Qi'ra

Han and Qi'ra – Getting Married

Han was relieved to find the wet bar on his new ship was well-stocked – after all of today's excitement, he needed a drink. After pouring himself a beer, he made his way to the lounge and sat at the game table.

 _His ship._ The moment he'd waited his entire life for had finally arrived. He had _his own ship._ Not just any ship either – the fastest ship in the galaxy. He even had a friend who would be his copilot. He had everything he dreamed of and more.

Well no, not _everything_ he dreamed of.

He let out a sigh, staring down into the amber liquid in his glass. His mind's eye saw Qi'ra gazing into his eyes before the turbolift doors closed; his mind's ears heard her promising to follow him.

 _"_ _Expect everyone to betray you."_

And there were Beckett's words, as if the older man were giving Han an I-told-you-so from beyond the grave.

He sipped the drink, letting its high alcohol content burn his throat as his chest tightened. How many times had he and Qi'ra talked about taking off in their own ship _together?_ Did all those years of having each other's backs mean _nothing_ to her?

And _why_ did she leave him behind?

 _Why_ – that word turned itself over and over in his mind as he drank. There were moments when he wondered if Qi'ra had _always_ been playing him for a fool, even back when they were children, but then he would remember how she had willingly taken him under her wing and taught him how to survive in the White Worms and expected nothing in return. No, she couldn't have _always_ been playing him.

But that still left the question of _why_ she did it now.

In other moments, an old fantasy insisted on penetrating his mind.

Qi'ra in a deep green dress and veil – the traditional Corellian attire. Himself in a simple suit – one that didn't itch or pinch. Their hands clasped. Slipping gold rings on each other's fingers. A justice of the peace declaring their souls joined for the rest of their lives.

Han shook his head as if trying to drive the fantasy out. There was no point in indulging stupid fantasies now when he might never see Qi'ra again. Besides, it wasn't like they had ever actually _talked_ about getting married. They talked about being _together_ plenty, but marriage never entered their conversations. When you were a scumrat struggling to survive, stuff like getting married wasn't exactly high on your priority list.

Still, he'd had that fantasy.

Maybe Qi'ra wouldn't have wanted to get married anyway. Maybe at least this way he was spared the embarrassment of picking out the perfect ring, buying the ring, preparing and rehearsing the perfect proposal, then dropping to one knee, all only for her to say no.

But why did that fantasy linger?

He gulped down the last of the beer and sat staring into the empty glass at the few amber droplets that remained, like lonely islands in a sea of glass, unable to reach each other. Heh, that was lame – Han reminded himself that he shouldn't try to be a poet, but wasn't that what guys did when their girlfriends dumped them? Try to make sense of it by putting it into poetry?

He reminded himself that Qi'ra had never been his _girlfriend_ per se. They'd kissed, cuddled, even had sex, but they never called themselves boyfriend and girlfriend. She was just . . . the woman he loved. Love. What was the deal with love, anyway? He'd seen Beckett and Val in love and thought they looked so happy, but maybe Beckett would have shot Val if she'd been an obstacle to him getting what he wanted.

Beckett. Qi'ra.

Both had betrayed him because they'd let the galaxy get to them. The harshness of the universe had turned them into backstabbers who wouldn't think twice about betraying anyone in order to survive.

 _"_ _Expect everyone to betray you and you'll never be disappointed."_

Han ground his teeth, wishing he knew how to get Beckett's words out of his mind. Something was stuck in his throat as a thought in the back of his mind that he'd been trying to block from his conscious mind for some time now burst into his soul.

If the universe was so cruel that it could turn Beckett – and Qi'ra – into monsters, would it someday do the same to _him?_

He felt himself shuddering. It could happen to Qi'ra, so theoretically . . .

No, no, he wouldn't let it happen to him. He'd fight it with . . . with . . .

. . . with what? What weapons did he have to defend his soul from the galaxy?

[Han, are you in here?]

Han looked up and there was Chewie standing in the doorway, baring his teeth in a Wookiee smile. Chewie, who had attached himself to Han almost through sheer accident. Chewie, who had saved Han's life who-knew-how-many times during these recent escapades. Chewie, who had chosen to remain with Han even after given a chance to return to Kashyyyk.

Well, maybe Han had _one_ weapon against the galaxy.


	52. Getting Married: Leia

Han and Leia – Getting Married

Was this real?

All morning long Han had felt like he was in a daze. Sure, he answered when people talked to him, but he forgot what they had been talking about as soon as the conversation ended. Several times he'd pinched himself in the leg, half-expecting to end up in his bed after doing so. Though his suit wasn't tight, he still felt as if something were squeezing his lungs and hampering his breathing.

He didn't even remember exactly how he'd gotten to the altar at the Naboo palace, but here he was, standing with Luke and Chewie at his side. Luke wore a black Jedi robe that made him look extra-formal and Chewie had actually combed his fur for this occasion.

Luke squeezed Han's shoulder. "Nervous, buddy?"

"That's one way of puttin' it," Han muttered in response, wondering how long he would have to stand here before everything began. He didn't remember things taking _this_ long at the rehearsal. Maybe something had gone wrong – maybe Leia had torn her dress or something like that.

Or maybe she had changed her mind.

Suddenly Han's stomach lurched and he found himself wanting to vomit. No . . . no . . . Leia wouldn't change her mind at the last minute . . . would she? They'd already counted the days to their wedding countless times and talked about how it couldn't come soon enough, so why would she suddenly change her mind?

Finally the music started, blaring in Han's ears as if trying to make him deaf right before he got married. All heads turned to see the little flower girl skipping down the aisle, sprinkling multicolored flower petals for the bride's walk. The flower girl was Padme the Second, the three-year-old daughter of Leia's cousin Ryoo. The child's deep brown hair danced as she skipped – supposedly she had inherited her hair from her namesake. Han initially hadn't been sure about letting a toddler be their flower girl, but he knew how much it meant to Leia to find her living family members, so he'd gone along with the decision. And sure enough, she made an adorable little flower girl.

Next came the bridesmaids: Leia's cousins Ryoo and Pooja. With her long brown hair and her head held high, Ryoo carried an air of dignity as she strode down the aisle in her deep green dress, smiling at her little daughter. Pooja, meanwhile, had a slight skip in her step, her light brown curls bouncing a little on her light blue dress. Sometimes Han found it hard to believe that Pooja was a senator, given how much energy she had.

Then the music increased its volume, echoing around the room and causing Han's heart to race.

There she was.

She strode down the aisle one step at a time, her white shoes peeking out from under her matching which skirt that had wavy designs embroidered on it. Her white, lacey veil embraced her face and her multicolored bouquet draped from her hands. She looked like she could just float up to Han like a cloud.

And she was smiling at Han.

Smiling at Han. Even now Han felt himself getting lightheaded whenever he saw her smile. Some part of him had long expected her to change her mind and say she never really loved him after all (perhaps a remnant from how his _first_ relationship had turned out), but no, there she was with her smile.

He wished the music would hurry up – why hadn't they picked a faster song for their wedding march? Now that she was here, he wanted to take her into his arms and declare to the entire galaxy that their souls were joined. The _entire galaxy_ – right, probably everyone in the galaxy who had a holovid was watching them right now.

He hoped his sweat wasn't showing on his suit.

And he hoped his butt wouldn't itch. It probably wouldn't be very dignified to scratch it in front of the whole galaxy.

Finally, here she was. She had barely finished handing her bouquet to Ryoo when Han grasped her hands. Her image blurred in his eyes as they filled with happy tears, but she reached up and discreetly wiped them.

"Ready?" she whispered.

"Been ready," he whispered back. "Been ready for ages."

His eyes welled up again as the queen of Naboo spoke in an elegant, accented voice. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of Han Solo and Leia Organa in marriage."

Leia wiped his tears again, but they came again. After wiping his own eyes, he noticed that she had tears in her eyes too. Maybe it was all right for the galaxy to see the softer side of these two war heroes.

He took a deep breath as he grasped her hands again, ready to recite the words he knew by heart – the words he had been practicing ever since she agreed to marry him (and maybe even before that).

"I, Han Solo, do take you, Leia Organa, to be my wife . . ."


	53. Birthday: Qi'ra

Birthday – Han and Qi'ra

 _I am fifteen years old today._

Han had been repeating that to himself periodically all day, not that turning fifteen meant anything when you were one of Proxima's scumrats. Fifteen was a number, nothing more. Certainly not a cause for _celebration_ or anything like that.

Birthdays didn't exist as far as the White Worms were concerned. Some of the scumrats didn't even know when their birthdays were or how old they were. Others might have known when their birthdays were at some point, but since every day was the same here, they'd given up on keeping track of dates.

Han and Qi'ra, however, kept track. Maybe it was pointless to do so, but it helped retain a little sense of individual identity when you could say how old you were and when your birthday was.

 _I'm fifteen._

When he was younger, he might have been able to beg some money out of people if he told them today was his birthday, but people who were quick to give to kids weren't so quick to give to teenagers.

 _I'm fifteen. Happy Birthday, Han._

Happy Birthday indeed. How many people would choose to spent their birthday on a thieving assignment and then have to run from the authorities and their vicious Corellian hounds while on said assignment?

 _Fifteen._

He remembered having _real_ birthdays when his parents were alive. Sure, he never got much as far as ice cream and presents went, but they'd at least wish him happy birthday and give him hugs and let him know he was loved.

That he was someone who _mattered._

 _I do matter. I'm fifteen and I matter._

Sometimes it was hard to believe that you mattered when you were one of Proxima's scumrats. If you died, there was always another desperate kid who could replace you – it wasn't like the Corellian slums had a shortage of orphans. Hell, Han himself might have replaced some poor dead orphan when he first came here. There were so many scumrats that Han wondered how Proxima could keep track of them.

Just the name they were called drilled it into their minds that they didn't matter. _Scumrats._ No, it wasn't enough to just be scum or just be a rat; you had to be both in order to make _double_ sure that you knew you didn't matter and you were repulsive and you should be eternally thankful to Proxima for having the _compassion_ and _goodwill_ to take you in.

 _Fifteen. I'm fifteen. I matter._

His feet hurt, as they usually did when he trudged his way back to the hideout after a job. He clutched at the lucky dice in his pocket – not that doing so ever brought him much luck, unless he counted the fact that he was still alive as luck. Maybe he should count it as luck – some Corellian orphans didn't live to see their fifteenth birthday, after all.

Back to the hideout. Deliver the loot to Proxima and then get a meager supper. Then bed in a dark room where many other scumrats slept. His birthday was almost over and there was nothing to show for it.

He lay in his cot, feeling the eternal chill that slipped under the blanket, staring into the dark.

 _Happy Birthday, Han. I'm fifteen. Make a wish. I wish I could get outta here._

There was a numbness in his body, as if he'd been out in the cold for hours and lost feeling in his skin. How long would his birthdays go unnoticed? Moreover, how long could he keep this up before he forgot how old he was and lost that part of his identity?

Sometimes he was angry at his parents for dying, though he knew it of course wasn't their fault. It wasn't like they could have provided for their son in the event of their deaths either, not with their lack of money and Corellia's lack of provisions for poor people.

"Psst! Psst! Han, are you awake?"

"Yeah," Han whispered, grinning a bit at Qi'ra's voice.

"Good," Qi'ra whispered back as she climbed into Han's bed next to him. "I wanted to wish you happy birthday."

Han ran his fingers through her hair. "Thanks, you're the only one who has."

"I know," said Qi'ra. "Look, I stole you something."

She pressed an object into Han's hand. At first he couldn't identify it in the dark, but running his fingers along the edges finally told him that it was a chocolate bar.

"What kind is it?" he asked, having to remind himself to keep his voice down.

"Caramel and nuts, your favorite," Qi'ra answered, and Han was certain she was giving her adorable grin – he wished he could see it.

"Thanks," he said, "least I got _one_ person who gives a damn about my birthday."

Qi'ra kissed his forehead as he fumbled his way through the candy's wrapping. "Always," she said.


	54. Birthday: Leia

Birthday – Han and Leia

"Haaaaaaaappppy BIRTHDAY!"

Han's eyes popped open to his six-year-old son staring him in his face, leaning in at a proximity that would usually be uncomfortable, but not when it was Ben.

"Hey son," Han said with a tired smile. "Thanks for the birthday greeting, but didn't your mom tell you that Daddy wanted to sleep in on his birthday?"

"You did," came a familiar voice. Han lifted his head a tad to see his wife standing in the doorway, giving him that grin that could make his heart race. "You slept in and slept in and slept in – it's almost _lunchtime_ , in fact."

"Yeah," said Ben. "You didn't wanna sleep through your _whole_ birthday, did you?"

Han ruffled his son's hair as he sat up. "No, of course not. Thanks for wakin' me up so I could enjoy my birthday."

Ben giggled as Han rubbed him behind his ears. "C'mon, we got cake an' presents an' everything!"

"Okay, okay," said Han. "Just let Daddy get dressed first."

"Okay!" Ben echoed back, jumping off the bed and dashing out of the bedroom so as to let his father get ready for the day, which gave Leia the opportunity to stride up to the bed and give her husband a birthday kiss.

"So, how does it feel to be forty?" she asked in a sly voice.

"Honestly . . . not that much different from bein' thirty-nine," said Han, grinning at his wife. "I don't _think_ I need to take pills in order to enjoy your hot body yet."

"Not until tonight, nerfherder," Leia said with a laugh. "First we've got some surprises for you, so you'd better get dressed."

"Kay, sweetheart."

It only took him around five minutes to get ready for the day and when he reached the living room, he was greeted by yet another enthusiastic happy birthday from his son.

"You're forty, Daddy! FORTY!" Ben shouted as he hugged his father's waist. "That's OLD!"

 _"_ _Ben!"_ Leia scolded.

Han only chuckled. "Yup Ben, it's _real_ old." He yanked at his hair, which was still mostly brown, but a tiny bit of gray was beginning to show at the temples. " _All_ my hair's gonna turn gray soon, and I'm gonna have to use a cane to walk and I'll need a hearin' aid, the works. Oh, and my teeth are gonna fall out and I'm gonna have to keep my dentures in a glass of water. You're gonna have to take care of me cause I'm SO OLD!"

Ben giggled his cute little giggle. "Yup, you're SO OLD, so you'd better pick me up while you still can!"

Han didn't need to be coaxed any further to do that – he bent down and scooped his son into his arms in one swift motion while Ben shrieked and giggled some more. "So Ben," said Han, "what all do you have planned for your old man's birthday?"

"Well, you got presents, but I can't tell you what they are," said Ben, rubbing his father's cheek and giggling further at the scratchiness. "Daddy, you didn't shave!"

"What?" Leia exclaimed with mock anger, putting her hand on her chest as if scandalized by Han's lack of shaving. "How could you forget to shave on your _birthday?"_

"I didn't forget," Han said with a grin at his wife. "I just didn't do it."

"But _Han!"_ Leia exclaimed in that overly-dramatic voice. "I thought you wanted me to kiss you on your birthday!"

"Yeah, but it's _my_ birthday, so _I_ decide whether or not I wanna shave." Han's grin grew wider and cockier. "Sides, you wouldn't deny me a birthday kiss just cause I didn't shave, would you?"

"I dunno, I _might."_

"Awww," Han said with an exaggerated pout. "But it's my _birthday!"_

"Yeah, Mommy," said Ben, giving a similar exaggerated pout. "You should kiss Daddy on his birthday, even if he doesn't shave."

Leia twisted her mouth in an equally-exaggerated manner. "Well . . . okay, but _only_ because it's your birthday." She strode up to her husband and gave him a smooch on his scratchy cheek, then she gave Ben a smooch on his smooth cheek for good measure.

"So Ben," said Han, bouncing his son in his arms, "you said something about presents?"

"Yup!" exclaimed Ben, nodding his head in a rapid motion. "Mommy and I wrapped 'em this morning, but I can't tell you what's in 'em!"

"Aw, come on." Han gave that exaggerated pout again. "Can't you tell me what's in 'em?"

"Nope! Ben shook his head, making his hair whip around his face like a brushy fan.

"Can't ya just gimmie a hint?"

"Nope!"

"Not even a teensy _weensy_ hint?"

Ben just giggled yet again while Leia again kissed her husband's cheek, seeming like she no longer minded the stubble. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you'll get your presents soon enough."

"Yeah," said Ben. "And you'll have a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Han kissed his son's head, unable to stop grinning even if he wanted to. "I _know_ I will."


	55. Doing Something Ridiculous: Qi'ra

Doing Something Ridiculous – Han and Qi'ra

"Han, this is stupid."

"C'mon Qi'ra, it'll be fun."

Neither Han nor Qi'ra knew how to swim and they both knew that if they got caught in the ocean at night they'd be in big trouble – especially if they got caught going into the ocean butt-naked – but it was something Han wanted to try. He didn't even know precisely _why_ he wanted to try it, but maybe it had something to do with how the ocean looked like freedom, kind of like how the sky looked like freedom. Of course, he spent much more time daydreaming about the sky (and what was beyond the sky) than the ocean, but the ocean also had a sort of _endless_ feeling to it, like if you had unlimited endurance you could just step in the ocean and _disappear._

That was why he wanted to learn to swim someday. When he and Qi'ra got their own ship, maybe they'd fly off to a planet with a lot of beaches and learn to swim in the ocean over there, far away from Corellia.

But for now, they'd have to make do with _this_ ocean.

They were hiding under a dock, where the cold water brushed over their bare feet as they stood in the scratchy sand. Han was in the process of peeling off his shirt when Qi'ra said, "But what if someone steals our clothes?"

Han froze with his head still in the shirt – he hadn't actually thought of that, but if he were completely honest with himself he had to admit that it was a possibility. "Well . . . guess we go back to Proxima's naked and take the punishment," he said as he completed peeling off his shirt and crumpled it into a ball, feeling the chilly night air brush past his chest.

Qi'ra raised her eyebrow and cocked her head at him. "Go back to Proxima's . . . _naked._ Han, you've had some pretty crazy ideas in the past, but I'd say this one tops them all. Even if we were decent, law-abiding citizens, the authorities would still arrest us for inappropriate exposure."

"Fine," said Han. "If _you_ don't wanna do it, you don't have to, but _I'm_ gonna try it."

Qi'ra folded her arms. "Oh, so this _wasn't_ just so you could see me naked and wet in the moonlight?"

"No, course it wasn't," Han said as he started wiggling out of his pants.

"Then what _was_ it? Why would you want to try something so _stupid?_ "

Han sighed as he stepped out of his pants and underwear and let Qi'ra see his naked body in its full glory – or at least as glorious as it could look in the middle of the night under a dock. "Cause . . . it looks like it'll help me feel _alive."_

"Alive?"

"Yeah. You know, they say a little risk can help you feel alive."

"So you don't feel alive when we're constantly running from the authorities and getting beaten up by Proxima? _That_ doesn't count as risk?"

Han sighed again, trying not to think of how his intimate area was getting cold. "That's risk, but it's a different kind of risk. It's the kind of risk that wears you out and makes you wonder why you're alive in the first place. This . . . I dunno, but when I look at that ocean I feel like I could taste freedom if I got in it, even though I can't swim."

"Yeah, that's another thing," said Qi'ra. "We _can't_ swim."

"Yeah, but c'mon," Han persisted. "If we just step into the edge of the water, we'll be fine."

"The ocean can sweep you out into it, though."

"Well that's part of the risk I was talkin' about," said Han. "But look, it's okay if you don't wanna do it. I'll just be in there for a few minutes and then we can go back to Proxima's before we get caught." He tucked his clothes by a dock post, hoping they wouldn't get stolen and stepped out into the night air.

Anyone could see him here, but he wasn't embarrassed for some strange reason. His breath came in and out in long heaves as he savored the night air nipping his entire body and smelled the salty sea breeze.

And there was the ocean.

It brushed in, out, in, out, as if the water was breathing. Qi'ra was right – he _didn't_ know how to swim and he _could_ get pulled out to his death, but was that any less dangerous than his normal existence as Proxima's pawn?

After another deep breath, he stepped into the water.

His teeth chattered as the water brushed over him, but he forced himself to go further, further, letting the water envelope his legs, his stomach, licking him with an invigorating chill. He was up to his torso when he stopped and stared upward at the stars, those millions of stars that would one day mean his freedom.

He was about to wave over to Qi'ra, but he heard something splashing through the water next to him. He looked to the side and there was . . .

"Qi'ra?"

There she was, her nude body glowing in the moonlight as the waves brushed over her breasts. "Hello Han," she said. "I decided I wanted to feel alive tonight too."


	56. Doing Something Ridiculous: Leia

Doing Something Ridiculous – Han and Leia

It was amazing how having a kid had lowered Han's ability to be embarrassed.

A few years ago (well, five, to be precise), he wouldn't have been caught dead doing the Hokey Pokey or singing children's song in an overly-high voice or wearing a bantha mask or playing with puppets watching holovid shows aimed at little kids or pretending to be characters from said little kid shows, yet now he did all that and more. Moreover, he often didn't even _think_ about how silly it was for someone his age to be acting like a little kid, even though he knew that the guys at the bar probably laughed at him behind his back. So what if they laughed? They didn't know what it was like to see a little four-year-old's eyes light up when his father made him laugh.

And they didn't know the sheer _joy_ that came out of bringing a kid joy.

Why was Han thinking these things while he was reading Ben his bedtime story? It was just a normal evening with Ben sitting in his father's lap while wearing his cute little X-Wing pajamas and Leia lounging on the other end of the couch as she listened to the story with their son. Maybe it was because this particular story had a large cast of characters and as such required a lot of different voices. He'd been making his voice high for the Ewok lady, low for the old bantha, growly for the Wookiee man, and more. In fact, his throat was starting to get a bit sore from all the voices, but he wouldn't let that show when it was making Ben laugh to hear all the funny voices his dad could make.

"So the bantha man said, 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE'?" Han read, having to stretch his voice a bit to make it low and loud at the same time. "Then the Ewok lady said, 'Pardon me, Oh Mighty Bantha, but they say you have the magical stone that will make Endor green again."

"An' he does," said Ben, having heard this story countless times before.

"Yes," Leia chimed in, "but remember, he won't give it to her unless she proves her bravery."

"How come?" Ben asked. "She alweady bwave, why she gotta do more?"

Han smiled down at his son. "Cause that's how these stories go, buddy. It ain't enough just to _be_ brave – you gotta _show_ that you're brave, just like I did."

"Huh?" asked Ben, looking up at his father with widened eyes. "Did _you_ havta get a magic stone fwom a bantha too?"

Both Han and Leia couldn't help but snicker at that. "No, no son," said Han. "I didn't have to do that, but I _did_ have to rescue your mommy from the Death Star and then help blow up the Death Star."

"Yeah," said Leia, propping her bare feet up on the couch and wiggling her cute toes, "but I don't think _that's_ how you proved your bravery."

Ben's eyes were still wide, as if he were discovering some mysterious truth about life. "Den _how?"_

Leia smiled at Ben, then at Han, then back again. "Your daddy proved his bravery through showing me his _heart_ , of course. Once, he was going to run away because he was scared of the Empire, but then he came back and showed that he _cared_ about the Rebellion and about the people he loved." She gently nudged Han's leg with her foot. " _That_ was how your daddy won the princess's heart and lived happily ever after."

"Yeah," said Han, grinning over at his wife. "Happily ever after. So thanks to your daddy's bravery – and your mommy's bravery too, of course – we got to get married and have you."

"Hap'ly ever after," Ben echoed as he brushed his hand over the datapad. "Like in da stowy."

"Yes, like in the story," said Han, rubbing his son's belly and kissing his head. "You're _our_ happily ever after."

Ben giggled. "Kay, can we go back to da stowy now?"

"Sure, buddy."

Ben and Leia settled back down and Han continued reading the story, peppering it with funny voices that made Ben laugh as usual, not caring if it hurt his throat or if the guys would laugh if they saw him. In fact, he felt sorry for them and how they didn't know the simply pleasure of reading to a child on a peaceful night.

As the story neared its end, he glanced to the side and saw that Leia had fallen asleep, her head resting on the back of the sofa, her hair draping over her face. "Shh," he whispered, interrupting the story to put a finger over his lips. "Ben, we have to be quiet because Mommy's asleep."

"Ohhh," Ben whispered back, as if trying not to wake Mommy up was a game. He put his own finger over his lips. "But can we still read the stowy?"

"Sure," whispered Han. "We just have to whisper it so we don't wake Mommy up."

"Okay," Ben said in a whisper so cute that Han wished he had recorded it. He _definitely_ felt sorry for the guys at the bar now. No matter how much they might laugh at him, they didn't have Ben.

Ben, Han's happily ever after.


	57. Doing Something Sweet: Qi'ra

Doing Something Sweet – Han and Qi'ra

"Han, it's Fete."

Thirteen-year-old Han and sixteen-year-old Qi'ra stood together in the snow-covered Corellian street, watching the snowflakes dance around them in the night sky and listening to the faint sounds of Fete music playing from speakers somewhere. The streets were unusually quiet tonight – probably because most of the normal people who had jobs and could afford things were celebrating in their houses or at parties. Though Han's winter coat was thin and did a poor job insulating his body from the cold, he strangely didn't mind the chill. In fact, it felt invigorating tonight.

"I remember Fete," he murmured.

Qi'ra gulped. "Yeah, I do too."

"We usually got a tiny tree, probably one of those leftovers after others got the good ones since we got it just a day or two before Fete," said Han. "You know, the needles would fall out pretty fast and we'd usually have to take it down after a few days, but that was all my parents could afford. Still, it was pretty damn magical when it was up. We had a few cheap ornaments and some that we'd make ourselves out of old paper and stuff." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his father's lucky dice. "My dad would hang these on the tree too, to bring us luck."

Qi'ra grinned as she batted at the dice dangling from Han's fingers. "I think they'd look really nice on a Fete tree. They'd probably shimmer in the lights."

"We didn't have lights on our tree," said Han. "Too expensive, but they _did_ shimmer from the sunlight through the window." He swallowed as he watched the dice shimmer in the moonlight, remembering how he used to try to guess where his father would hang the dice each year. "We'd only get one present each and it was usually somethin' small or homemade, but . . . damn, what I would give to have those days back again."

Qi'ra gently put her hand on his shoulder. "I know. I feel the same way when I remember Fete with my parents."

The two stood together as the lights on the buildings came on, turning the street into a glowing fairyland, or at least that was always how it looked to Han when he was little. He thought he had some memories of thinking the lights were actually magic and that he could ask the fairies to make things better for his family. Maybe he even tried it – he wasn't sure, but he _did_ remember asking his mother why they couldn't have magical lights on their own Fete tree and maybe thinking the fairies didn't like them.

He sighed, watching his breath come out in a thick cloud as he put the dice back in his pocket. "It'd be nice if Proxima would let us celebrate Fete."

Qi'ra twisted her lips as if Han had just told a bad joke. "It would also be nice if she'd let us go to school. It would be nice if she didn't beat us when we screwed up our assignments, it would be nice if she actually _cared_ about us and didn't just see us as expendable – there are a _lot_ of things that would be nice. Speaking of which, she'll probably get angry at us if we don't get back soon."

"Yeah," said Han, "but I don't wanna go back." He gestured up at the lights that blinked different colors and gave the illusion that they were dancing. "It's all bright and alive here. Down there it's dark and drab and _dead."_

Still, the teenagers knew that a beating would await them if they arrived late, so they reluctantly started making their way back to the hideout, but then something stopped in their tracks.

"Han, look," Qi'ra breathed.

Han's throat suddenly went dry. A family's window, uncurtained, giving them a full view of the goings-on inside. The mother and two sons were sitting down to Fete dinner, laughing with each other as the mother served the children and then herself. Though Han and Qi'ra couldn't hear what was being said inside, the family's smiles and motions of laughter communicated everything well enough.

It was as if the enclosed space was showing Han what he used to have and what he had _lost._ He felt his heart starting to race and suddenly the cold was irritating instead of invigorating. Inside there was warmth and laughter and love, but Han was _outside._ Forever outside.

He sniffled, trying in vain to convince himself that his nose was only running because of the cold and wiping his nose with his sleeve. "L-let's go back," he said, feeling a tear running down his cheek and trying once again in vain to shut out the memories of Fete dinner with his parents. _Why?_ was pounding in his mind. _Why, why WHY?_

Qi'ra wrapped her arm around her friend. "It's all right, Han," she whispered. "One day Fete will be happy again."


	58. Doing Something Sweet: Leia

Doing Something Sweet – Han and Leia

"Look Ben, isn't it pretty?"

Han and his infant son were both lying on the floor with their heads under the Fete tree, looking up at the colored dancing lights and inhaling that sharp Fete tree smell. Ben was gurgling happily as his head rested on his father's shoulder.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," replied Han. "Does your mommy know you've got a real way with words?"

Ben gurgled some more.

"Yeah, you do," Han said with a grin. "Look, doesn't it look like a whole other world up there, like if we shrank down we could go explore it." He rubbed Ben's stomach, making him giggle. "When your daddy was little, back before his parents died, he used to lie under the Fete tree just like this." He took a deep breath, trying to undo the knots in his stomach that still appeared when he talked about his parents. "Mom would tell me that I shouldn't do it cause I could get needles in my eyes, but I still did it. I think I even wanted to sleep under the tree at least once, but my parents wouldn't let me."

Ben cooed, reaching up as if he wanted to touch the branches with his tiny fingers.

"Tell you what, if when you get older _you_ wanna sleep under here, I'll let you – though Mommy might be harder to convince."

Now Ben's reaching hand came down and landed on his father's chin. "Dada," he said.

Han's grin expanded to its limit and his eyes welled up yet again. Even though it had been a few days since Ben had said his first word and started associating it with Han, it _still_ made Han's eyes well up every time. "Yes," he said, gently grabbing Ben's little hand and kissing it. "I'm your dada."

"Dada," Ben repeated, which of course made Han's eyes well up even further and blurred his vision, making the lights expand into tiny colored suns.

"How do you do it, Ben?" Han sighed, wiping his eyes with his free hand. "It's like you turn on your daddy's tear ducts every time you say that."

Ben started babbling happily as if he'd understood what his father said and was trying to explain how Han's tear ducts went off every time he said Dada.

"Yeah," said Han. "You and I have real meaningful conversations, don't we?" He sighed again and went back to gazing up into the tree, spotting his father's lucky dice dangling from one of the branches. "See those dice up there? _My_ daddy used to hang them up on the Fete tree too and now we're carryin' on his tradition. Someday maybe you'll hang 'em on your own tree." He gulped. "But not for a long time, kay? Right now you're still our baby."

"Dada," Ben repeated, once again making his father's eyes well up.

"Yeah," said Han. "Right now you still call me Dada and your dada's gonna spoil you this Fete." He kissed his little son's head and once again rubbed his stomach, savoring the sensation of the child's fuzzy sleeper. "And we're gonna have lots more wonderful Fetes for many many years. I can hardly wait."

Ben again touched his father's chin and repeated, "Dada," and this time a tear actually leaked out of Han's eye before he could wipe it away. _I'm such a baby,_ he thought wryly, though strangely enough he didn't mind, maybe because of the baby who had taken over his heart ever since he was just a little blob of cells in Leia's womb.

"Han, what are you doing?"

Speaking of Leia, there were her feet, bare and beautiful. "Nothin' much, hon," he said. "Just admirin' the tree from below."

"And you brought _Ben_ to admire the tree from below with you?" she exclaimed. Han could easily imagine her glaring face – after all, he'd been on the receiving end of it many a time.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he said. "I used to do this when I was a kid and I wanted to share it with him. What harm could it do? Okay, so a few needles could fall on him, but I'll brush 'em off. It won't hurt him."

He was expecting Leia to demand that both he and Ben get out from under the tree and then proceed to deliver him a lecture, but strangely enough, she didn't. Instead, her feet slid down and to Han's complete surprise, she lay down under the tree next to them.

"I used to do this when I was little too," she said with a happy sigh, kissing her son's cheek. "Yes Ben," she said, "your mommy used to lie under her Fete tree on Alderaan." She smiled up into the maze of branches, lights, and ornaments. "I used to imagine that I was looking into a different world and that if I shrunk down, I could climb up into the branches and visit the ornaments." Her voice wavered a little. "Does that sound silly?"

Han grinned at his wife. "Nope, not silly at all."


	59. Doing Something Hot: Qi'ra

Doing Something Hot – Han and Qi'ra

Han couldn't stop grinning as he lay naked in Qi'ra's cot with Qi'ra resting her head on his chest, also naked. He couldn't stop his breath from heaving, but he didn't care. Energy was pulsing through him as if he were drunk – in the good way. Though he'd imagined having sex with Qi'ra many a time, he, hadn't known how _energized_ it would make him feel even after the act, as if his body had produced excess adrenaline and didn't know what to do with it.

"You're good," he murmured.

"Hmm?" asked Qi'ra, breathing into his chest.

"I said you're good," repeated Han.

Qi'ra chuckled. "Please, I didn't know what I was doing. I think _you're_ the one who's good."

"Well I didn't know what I was doin' either," argued Han. "I only really knew that you're s'posed to put one thing into another thing."

"Well that's about all I knew too," said Qi'ra.

Han shrugged. "Whether you knew what you were doin' or not, I still enjoyed it."

"Thanks, I did too," said Qi'ra with a slight yawn. "However, I how you won't expect me to do oral or anal or any of that weird stuff. I'm definitely _not_ ready for that."

"Don't worry, I ain't either." Han ran his hands through her short hair. "I just . . . I dunno how to describe it, I just feel really good."

"I do too," said Qi'ra, circling her hand over Han's chest. "I just hope . . ."

"You hope what?"

She sighed, her hot breath tickling Han's chest. "I just hope I'm not pregnant."

"What?" Han wrinkled his mouth. "Didn't you just have your period?"

"Yes," said Qi'ra, "so I'm probably not pregnant, but you know, if I _did_ get pregnant, that would mean _big_ trouble." Her breath started intensifying. "And . . . and if Proxima lends me out, whoever gets me probably won't be as gentle as you were."

Han gulped, remembering that Qi'ra would be turning eighteen soon, which meant Proxima would consider her old enough for . . .

"It ain't gonna happen to you," he whispered, though of course he had no way of being sure of that.

"And you know that _how?_ " Qi'ra asked. "You think we'll magically get the money we need to get off Corellia before Proxima can lend me out?"

"Well . . . maybe."

"Han, you rely on your dreams too much. If Proxima decides to lend me out, I have _no_ say in it. None."

"Well . . . then maybe you _should_ get pregnant so she won't wanna lend you out."

Qi'ra groaned through her teeth. "And _then_ what? If I get pregnant, Proxima throws me out into the streets and then the authorities get me and the baby is born in prison. Do you want that?"

Han gulped. "Okay, dumb idea. But . . . maybe we _can_ get away before Proxima can lend you out."

"How?"

"I dunno, maybe some opportunity will present itself." He kissed her forehead. "Anyway, we're gonna time this stuff to make sure you _don't_ get pregnant, kay?"

"Yes," said Qi'ra. "I'm just . . . I enjoyed it with you, I really did, but does that mean I'll _enjoy_ it when some stranger is forcing himself on me?"

Han couldn't answer that. He stared up into the darkness, some part of him wishing this moment could just last on and on and Qi'ra would never have to worry about being leant out then. Why, why, _why_ didn't he have the money to get them off Corellia? Why didn't he know how to make fake IDs for them so they could get through security and stow away on some ship heading anywhere? Yeah, anywhere – at this point he wouldn't care where they went so long as no one would be lending Qi'ra out there.

And maybe after they settled in wherever their new home would be, they _could_ have children. Yeah, Han would like kids. He and Qi'ra could give their kids the life that was denied _them_.

"We'll get outta here," he repeated, as if saying it enough times would make it happen.

Qi'ra sighed again, draping her arm over his chest. "Sometimes I believe that and sometimes I don't."

"Believe it," said Han, taking her hand and kissing it, tasting her skin. "We're gonna go somewhere where no one can kick us around and we'll never have to come back to this hellhole again. We'll be our own people."

"Our own people," Qi'ra repeated in a murmur. "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah," said Han. "But meanwhile, we're probably gonna get in trouble if we're caught like this, so I should probably get to my own cot."

Qi'ra grasped his shoulder. "Not yet," she said. "Please, let's enjoy the moment for a little longer."

"You sure? What if we get in trouble?"

Qi'ra gave one of her light, adorable chuckles as she snuggled into Han's chest. "I think a little trouble is worth this, don't you?"

Han grinned. "Yeah, I think so."


	60. Doing Something Hot: Leia

AN: Wow, this is the last piece. Thanks for reading and sticking with me for this month!

Doing Something Hot – Han and Leia

Han's heart was racing like it had never raced before, ramming so hard against his ribs that he almost wondered if he would go into cardiac arrest once he and Leia actually got started.

It was a beautiful snowy night on Naboo, which Han and Leia were enjoying in their small vacation home. They'd already shared a bottle of Naboo champagne in front of a roaring fire, but that wasn't what made tonight special. No, they'd planned tonight out for a very specific purpose.

There was Leia, sashaying into the bedroom in her sexy white robe, her hair brushing over her shoulders in soft curls. "Well, are you ready?"

Han had to take a few deep breaths in order to calm himself enough to speak. "Yeah, but are you sure we've got the timing right?"

"Pretty sure," said Leia. "I mean, I'm pretty regular."

Han took another deep breath as he made his way to his wife's side. "And . . . we're sure we wanna do this, right?"

Leia put her hands on his shoulders, staring into her husband's eyes. "What, are you having second thoughts?"

"No, not second thoughts, just . . . scared to death," Han admitted. "Once you're pregnant, we've got someone's life completely in our hands. We could mess it up." He swallowed, gazing down at his wife's abdomen that could house new life soon. "It ain't just holdin' a baby – it's nurturing a _life._ "

"I know that," said Leia, cupping his face in her hands. "Han, if you want to wait, we can."

"No, I don't wanna wait," Han said quickly. "I just . . . I guess I'm nervous about bein' a dad. You know, I lost my parents when I was a kid and then . . ." He trailed off.

Leia patted his cheek. "I'm nervous too, Han." She gave an awkward chuckle. "What will it be like to have pregnancy cravings and morning sickness and swell up like a balloon with something kicking me from the _inside?_ Not to mention _childbirth._ At least you don't have to go through _that."_

"No, I'll just get to pace around the hospital room worryin' about you the whole time," chuckled Han.

"Seriously, though," said Leia, brushing the area of Han's chest that peeked out of his robe folds and making his skin tingle, "I _am_ scared about being a mother, and it's not even like I can call up my own parents for advice."

"Neither of us can," said Han.

"And then there's the fact that the baby might have the _Force_ , on top of everything," Leia said in a suddenly-hushed voice.

Han could only nod, not even knowing how to talk about their child having the Force. How could _he_ raise a Force-sensitive child? Would there be a barrier between them since there would be things about the kid that he couldn't understand?

"But," Leia said, putting her hand on her abdomen as if she were already pregnant, "I _want_ to be a mother."

"I want to be a dad too," Han murmured, taking her free hand and kissing it. "I want to give our kid what I _didn't_ have – well, least I didn't have it for real long."

"So, are we ready?"

"I am if you are."

She gave him her beautiful grin. "Yes, I'm ready."

With that, he leaned in and it was as if their lips had a magnetic attraction to each other. Their kiss grew deeper, deeper, deeper, their tongues dancing with each other as Han undid the belt on Leia's robe and Leia started pulling down on the shoulder of Han's robe. Han's heart raced again, his breath intensifying as they fell on the bed, each fiercely undoing the other's robe in a near-frenzy.

Han felt as if he were in a daze as his kisses ran up and down Leia's body and she ran her hands up and down his back. His ears were ringing and his stomach was tightening, but not just because of what was happening to his body.

Tonight might start a new life.

 _One Week Later_

"Han! Han!" Leia screamed as she rushed out of the refresher with the pregnancy test in her hand. "It's positive! It's POSITIVE!"

Han's breath stopped. "P-positive? You sure?"

"Yes!" she shouted, waving the test with the blue spot in front of his eyes. "Blue means pregnant, BLUE MEANS PREGNANT!"

"Blue means pregnant . . ." Han repeated in a daze as he bent over and kissed her stomach. "Hey . . . hey there, I'm your daddy . . . I'm your daddy." Just saying those words felt like he had transported into another world. He gathered his wife into his arms and gave her what might have been the most passionate kiss they'd ever had.

They were going to have a baby, and whatever gender it might be or whatever it might look like, Han already loved it with all his heart.


End file.
